#it just kept getting longer

[doom-dreaming]

Do you think cortana posted chief for national girlfriends day on the unsc's version of Twitter (he didnt even know about it until weeks later)

It had been nearly two weeks by this point and it only seemed to be gaining momentum. Groups of S-IVs would try to hide their snickering as they passed him in the halls. Whispering Marines would quickly shush each other when he walked into the room. He noticed the sidelong glances, the elbows jabbed into ribs, all the little movements that weren't as subtle as they thought. He'd even caught Roland and Captain Lasky in the middle of a hushed but heated conversation that he, apparently, didn't have the clearance for.

This had been normal when he was still a new fixture on Infinity, but several years had smoothed the edges off his reputation - at least enough that people could relax around him. Or so he thought. A backslide like this was...unexpected. And it wasn't even necessarily the principle of being left out of something that had started to bother him, it was more the fact that everyone seemed to be in on something he wasn't. And that it seemed to be about him.

"Mm, kind of rude," was all Cortana had muttered when he'd brought it up a few days prior. She'd been distracted, deep in the middle of analyzing something for Halsey, and he didn't think much of the dismissal at the time.

But by now, the strange conspiratorial energy aboard the ship had all the trademarks of a bomb about to go off and it was making him antsy in a way he didn't appreciate. "Cortana."

It takes a fraction of a second longer than usual for her projection to appear on the holodeck - a detail imperceptible and inconsequential to anyone but him - but she's bright-eyed and smiling as she materializes. "You rang?"

"You have to know something." He cuts right to the chase.

She sighs. "Chief, you know they put me on restricted access. I don't like it either, but I have to play nice. It's Roland's ship, if you want to know what he sees, ask him."

John narrows his eyes. He didn't believe her for a second. And she knew it.

She holds eye contact as her lips twitch into a barely-contained smirk. "Maybe there's something going around on the socials," she continues with a shrug. "Could be worth a look if it's really bothering you."

**********

The suggestion was still sitting in the back of his mind days later, unheeded. He had more important things to be doing than trawling through message boards trying to find a joke that no one had bothered to let him in on. It always felt like tuning into an unsecured comm. channel - lots of chatter with very little substance.

But he knew Cortana. And she was up to something. Besides, he had a few hours to kill before Commander Palmer needed him in the simulation room. He taps his way into his account, remembering his password with a combination of muscle memory and sheer luck. His inbox is overflowing with messages, but he opts to ignore them in favor of hunting down the threads with the heaviest, most recent traffic.

A thread simply titled 'Girlfriend Day' rises to the top of the list. His finger hesitates over it for a second, unsure if this was the lead he should be following. It seemed unlikely, but none of the other contenders had anywhere near the same engagement numbers... Resigning himself to a potential dead end and waste of time, he opens it.

The initial post is a picture of a young couple, both smiling. The man has his arm around the woman's shoulders. They're somewhere sunny, in civilian clothes. John doesn't recognize either of them and doesn't spend much time skimming the accompanying text before moving on.

He doesn't have to go far. Less than a dozen posts into the thread, he finds a photo of himself. It's not a bad photo, all things considered - it's a nice candid shot, he's cleaning a gun, his helmet sits on the bench beside him - but the rose-tinged filter and tiny pink hearts aren't doing it any favors. It'd been posted anonymously without a caption and he only has to read a few of the comments underneath it for things to start falling into place.

"Cortana..."

The holodeck glows a dim blue for three full seconds before she appears, hands on hips, eyebrows raised.

John silently tilts the screen toward her.

"Do you like it? I thought the hearts were a nice touch."

"Pink's not my color."

"Agree to disagree." She settles into a more relaxed stance. "Who knew one picture could get the ship buzzing like this? Infinity's starving for gossip, apparently."

"Everyone wants to know whose girlfriend I am," John sighs, finally setting the datapad down. "Where'd you get the picture?"

"Took it myself. Last month. It was hard picking a favorite, you know. I went through a lot of them."

"...how many do you have?"

"Oh, thousands. I don't show them to anyone. Well, aside from this one exception." She nods toward the datapad, then crosses her arms in response to the face he can feel himself making. "What, a girl can't have a hobby?"

#halo #my writing #master chief #john 117 #cortana #johntana #god this felt good #i love prompt writing #this ended up being more like reddit than twitter #but in my defense i've never had a twitter account #my heart tells me unsc social media would be forum-based #also this got waaay away from me #it just kept getting longer #it's gonna take a while for me to get back into their voices #it's been so long #i can't guarantee every ask will inspire me to write #but this was a cute one :) #this is set somewhere at the beginning of my H4 canon-divergence AU btw #halo fanfic

[dreamdripdistance]

transfem joker . if you even care.

#takemi gets her estrogen 'legally' #SORRY I REALLY REALLY LOVE TRANSFEM JOKER #i hope i kept some of the gnc swag that canon joker has just like. in a different font #her hair is a fuck ass mullet bc i think if its any longer it would just felt together n never untangle #anyways :) #persona #persona 5 #p5 #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #trans persona 5 protagonist #my art

[silliepuppieboie]

What’s your biggest fauxcest fantasy?

thank you sm for the ask anon!! 💜

hmmm… my boycunt gets drippy thinking about being used by a big icky family >//<

my day starting by being woken up by my brother stuffing me full of his cock, shooting a load inside his sibling to let drip down my thighs as i walk around school all day

trying to get ready for school but failing miserably with my sister forcing my face between her thighs, telling me she’s nervous about a big presentation and needs to relieve some stress before the day starts

scrambling to get to school on time and asking mom for a ride, only for her to coo and dote on me, saying she’ll need something in return for the favor. she calls the office to tell them i’ll be late as she caresses the top of my head between her thighs

finally getting to school and being so fuzzy all day… between class periods sis would find me in the hall, sneaking up behind me and grabbing me to pull me into the bathroom or a supply closet, shoving her hands down my pants to to laugh at how she could still feel our brother’s cum still dripping from between my legs… and during study hall in the library, bro corners me in a secluded area, pinning me against the bookshelves and groping at my body, covering my mouth and telling me to “be quiet before someone sees your brother using you in broad daylight.”

finally getting home after a long day. walking into the living room, falling onto the couch, and falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. i wake up a few hours later to the feeling of someone caressing my arm, gently coaxing me awake. i open my eyes to see dad, smiling down at me proudly. he tells me about how the whole family told him how good i’d been all day, making everyone feel so good. i beam at the praise, happily sliding into his arms as he pulls me into his embrace to settle me on his lap, telling me how i deserve a reward after being such a good baby.

or something like that idk…

#uhm this turned out way longer than i intended but hehfjsjfjksd #i could feel myself getting wetter the more i typed so i just kept going lol #ftm puppy #ftm bottom #ftm breeding #ftm sub #ftm nsft #puppyboy #ftm pup #puppy sub #1cky puppy #puppypl4y #1cky little #send 1cky asks #1cky thoughts #1cky d@d #1cky daddy #1cky mommy #1cky br0ther #1cky sister #1cky daughter #1cky son #fauxcest #fauxc3st #cnc fauxcest #think this is my longest post ever so far LOL

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again #the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys #saw #well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand #know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows #your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman. #there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn #thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down #something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness #the transformation of a man into a monster #and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption #sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this #do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind. #the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore #it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating #fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn #i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him #until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else #well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God #where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium #anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus #maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man #i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed #if only he hadn't been weaponized first #god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already #but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there #rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts #ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly #cat chat

[sakustars]

HQ!! BOYS AS TROPES

sfw; fluff; gn!reader; child/parenting(?) in sakusa’s

ft: hinata, tanaka, atsumu, sakusa, osamu

you never thought you’d survive long distance with hinata. but seeing him at the airport after so long made every sombre facetime and pillow cuddled at night worth it.

a mutual run-up to each other resulted in a large crash, engulfing each other in your arms, pressing your face into his neck pillow and attempting to stop his suitcases falling over.

distantly, you registered a couple teenagers filming, no doubt to post on social media for all the fans hinata had started gathering after being announced as an upcoming member of msby black jackals.

but you were too wrapped up in squeezing him as close as possible, though you were already pressed flush, and breathing him in, to acknowledge them.

the one-sided enemies to lovers with tanaka started with a misunderstanding. poor boy saw you talking to kiyoko about homework and instantly saw you as competition.

he would butt into conversations between you and the manager and watch you around school — to make sure you weren’t doing anything bad!

however, eventually, in one conversation he’d interrupted, you laughed a little too sweetly at something he’d said, and you were looking a little too fine walking to second period maths.

since then, he was whipped, but took a while to confess to you, much too nervous that you would hate him because of his bad behaviour when you first met. but thankfully, you returned his feelings.

childhood friends to lovers was a natural progression with atsumu. though, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment you actually fell.

maybe when you were five, carefully plastering a dinosaur bandaid over his knee after he fell off his bike. he had been looking up at you with watery eyes and a wobbly lip, with an awestruck expression that had even your tiny heart picking up.

or maybe love came with the relief when you found out that you were going to the same highschool. going to separate schools and falling out of contact was a very real fear, so learning that you would still be walking with him everyday was a huge reassurance.

but you had fallen for definite by your third year, when he finally confessed to you with an over-the-top bouquet on valentines day after escaping his fangirls, proven by your immediate acceptance and pouncing on him for a kiss.

you had never considered yourself to want to get involved with a child, but that all changed when single dad sakusa walked into swim lessons with his little boy.

you worried about coming off as unprofessional, waiting to make sure he was definitely subtly flirting back with you before you decided to make a move.

fortunately, sakusa beat you to the punch, asking you to dinner after his son earned his 20metre badge, as ‘appreciation for your hard work’

when you started dating for real, his son was ecstatic, you had been his favourite instructor, though getting him to call you your name instead of l/n-san had been a struggle at the beginning — and you definitely didn’t cry the first time he referred to you as his parent.

now it was a usual sight in the morning to see him sat on the kitchen counter as you poured his cereal, still in pyjamas, with sakusa latched onto your back like a barnacle, muttering how pretty you looked into your bedhead.

owning the flower shop across from osamu’s restaurant was a mutual benefit. you got discounted onigiri at a walking distance, and he got to stare at your pretty face through the windows separating you.

you also couldn’t deny the growing feelings you were harbouring for the man — he was handsome, and kind, and fed you.

it all happened one night when he had invited you and some others to stay late at his restaurant to watch a game his brother was playing on the tv. you had prepared a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and orange tulips as a thank you.

the night progressed and your cheeks had heated from the couple shots of saké you had indulged in. you had been sat at the front of the kitchen, watching his back flex as he chopped ingredients for the next day, and muttered a bit too loudly — “god, just go out with me already.”

of course he had heard you, and now the both of you were blushing heavily as he wrote his number down on a notepad and organised to meet for coffee the following sunday.

🪐 a/n: reblogs, likes and comments r very appreciated <3

#starfics🪐 #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq headcanons #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #tanaka x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #osamu x reader #they just kept getting longer💀 #hinata x you #atsumu x you #sakusa x you #osamu x you #tanaka x you

[angheling]

Here’s a little doodle dump of Tonis I put together because I love him

#Trigun #Tristamp #Trigun Stampede #Trigun Fanart #Rosa #Tonis #Zazie the Beast #Vash the Stampede #Mishmashed whatever info on him across Tri-canons I could get ahold of with some of my own hcs #So he’s interested in sporting short spiky hair with an undercut like his 98 and Trimax counterparts did because #Tristamp Vash sports short spiky hair with an undercut and he thinks he’s so cool and he wants to be just like him #He asks his mom to buy him a real gun only to be told no like his 98 and Trimax counterparts did but he’s also asking for one #just because he wants to be more helpful to his mom as she’s progressing through her pregnancy and his dad’s no longer #around because he kept being utterly useless around the house up until the day his mom finally kicked his lazy ass out #by bringing in more or much bigger wams he ever could with his net and cage #But his mom still doesn’t want to because she wants to keep him as far away from the violence prevalent across NML especially #at his age as possible seeing as she explicitly told him to scram before going after Vash along with the rest of the town for his bounty #in Tristamp unlike in 98’ and Trimax where even the kids took part in the chase #Not very good at writing dialogue so I thought maybe I could just draw the gist of it instead dunno how I did there but that’s #basically what’s going at the bottom left and upper right corners

[thatcrazypercyjacksonfan]

Now, I’m not sure if anyone in the TOA fandom has ever mentioned “Tongs A Lot, Dad”, a short story found in Camp Half-Blood confidential, but I strongly believe it adds (or perhaps reinforces) a lot when looked at with the additional context and characterisation the Trials of Apollo provides. 

An almost diary entry like addition in the short book, the story is told by Connor Stoll, following him and his brother as they poke around the old attic where the Oracle of Delphi remained for decades in the interest of scoring loot. At this they are semi successful, as they are made almost ridiculously vital to the canon plot of HoO with the find of celestial bronze tongs, which are inscribed with the instructions “for plucking the Tartarus Napkin from fire”. And if you are reading this post, you probably have a pretty good idea of why that’s important.

Now, what does this have to do with Apollo? Well, I find it highly probable that this was Apollo’s doing, for multiple reasons. 

1. The tongs were found in the oracle of Delphi's old abode, which is obviously Apollo’s domain, a place you would think he’d be very familiar with- the original place of the Oracle of Delphi was sacred ground, in fact, and even if that doesn’t quite translate to modern day... there is that theory about him being Camp Half Bloods Patron, pioneered by @tsarisfanfiction, I believe. Whatever hold the ancient laws have on the gods, I think we can somewhat assume that places such as these allow more wriggle room. 

 2. This notably happened basically simultaneously with Rachel becoming the Oracle, as seen here, “While everyone else was waiting to see if Rachel, the new Oracle, would survive....we made our move around to the back door of the Big House.” At this point, we’ve just wrapped up PJO. How would Apollo of known to set this up now? Well, we already know from Octavian in SoN that Apollo talked to him personally, and that their talk must of happened before Olympus closed, because he was stuck on Delos after. So if Apollo can put that into play, why not set up this? After all, Apollo is the god of prophecy - he could of understood it was needed. He obviously knew there was a threat. 

3. In the books (before ToA) we only see Apollo in Camp Half Blood twice- once to take Percy’s group and the hunters there in TTC, and once at the end of PJO to, as Conner so delightfully puts it, wait to see if Rachel would survive the Oracle. He was right there. And if that’s not enough for you, the reason Conner picks out the bag with the tongs? A “beam of golden light, shot upward from the floor” startles him. We find out later in another story that Apollo is directly confirmed to have been the one to do this- gifting Rachel the famous tripod stool of the Oracle. It fits almost to well.

“But!” You might say, protesting, “The title confirms who did it! I mean, it’s not like Apollo is Connor Stoll’s dad!” And to that I say- although the title does suggest that Hermes is responsible, it’s never confirmed, and more importantly- it’s in Connor’s POV. Why shouldn’t he assume it’s his dad? And why would he know otherwise? Perhaps you could make another connection with Hermes due to his shrine in Tartarus and point at that as his involvement, but wouldn’t it make more sense if Apollo knew it was a Child of Hermes who had to have the tongs, and acted accordingly? Afterall, last we saw Hermes he had a significant grudge against Annabeth, and more importantly has done nothing to suggest he’s capable of such foresight, especially at this point.

Now that I have (hopefully) convinced you of Apollo’s involvement, another titular question must be answered- why does it matter? What’s the ramifications of this? Well, considering that this napkin basically ends the civil war between the Greeks and the Romans... a lot, actually. Specifically, it allows Annabeth to communicate that reconciliation can be reached if Reyna, a Roman, returns the Athena Parthenos, an important Greek statue to the Greeks. (Also interesting to note she addresses this to Rachel, Apollo’s Oracle... another subtle connection). 

In ToA, Zeus punishes Apollo mainly for two stated reasons: Revealing the Prophecy to soon, which becomes pretty clear is not how prophecy works. And encouraging Octavian to declare war on the Greeks. But wait? If the Napkin succeeds due to Apollo, that means that he is trying to stop the war, which in my opinion follows more along with his characterisation in ToA. So what happened with Octavian? The fact of the matter is, people more clever then me have attempted to solve this question, such as @zazzander and @fearlessinger (Highly recommend this post if you are interested in the topic!) 

The tongs (and thus the potential for the Napkin) was put into place months before any true threat would be realised by most characters. So it wasn’t a frantic backpedal of trying to fix his mistakes to avoid punishment by Apollo. It was deliberate. Premeditated. Now, it could be that Apollo just knew the tongs would be needed, but not what for. Unfortunately, we don’t know how his powers work. But that’s boring. However, if you take the view that Apollo’s communication with Octavian was part of a larger strategy to reunite the camps... (again, see the linked post). Well. Funny thing, because that’s exactly what the Napkin facilitates. The two camps stop fighting because of this one, simple message, and the effect it had. They focus on the true enemy. Gaia.

What does this tell us then about Apollo, then?

Well...not much new, surprisingly. ToA does it’s job well. We know Apollo cares, deeply, about his kids and demigods as a whole. We know he often acts subtly, through quiet actions that he’ll never admit to. It’s maybe the final piece of evidence you could point to and say definitively that Zeus’s punishment was unjust, but we already knew that (although funnily enough, Zeus doesn’t- and even if he did, he’d probably just point to the violation of the interference laws and punish Apollo anyway.) What it does is add on to a very firm characterisation that ToA finalises, and showcases how once again Apollo is so much more then he first appears. 

#Did I focus way to much on a story of dubious canon? #Yes #Do I regret it? #No #Apollo meta #Apollo #ToA Apollo #Pjo Apollo #PJO #TOA #Trials of Apollo #lester papadopoulos #I have been meaning to do this for ages #I just think it's a really neat detail... but it just kept getting longer #Oh well #this meta is just me being insane for #roughly 1k words erbherf

[androgynouspenguinexpert]

congruent of d'deridahn

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #art #illustration #redacted vega #redacted carpe deus #carpe deus #back to factory settings baby!!!!!!!! #yall are in my house now so im telling you about design choices #vega being first out the oven makes him a very special boy so he gets white horns instead of red #his hair is white and longer because he hasnt had the chance to learn what a haircut is yet #i just think its neat when inhuman 'holy' characters have white as a key colour #his eyes are red like d'deridahn's and they eventually fade to gold #in my heart all d(a)emons started with solid scleras and irises in their respective colour #but the more they embraced (*) humanity the more their eyes shifted to match human ones #par exemple if vega didnt have a death grip on his identity his eyes would probably be normal golden brown ones #his scars (which he kept to be scary and unsettle people because he could 100% just heal them) are gone #and he's got d'deridahn's face markings #huh? #oh yeah the bathroom is upstairs and to the left

[paimonial-rage]

23 for heizou, albedo, xingqiu, and most importantly, KAEYA!! -- @milkstore

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

Heizou Headcanons

Self-Focused

With a talent for deduction and an enthusiasm to match, Shikanoin Heizou is a whirlwind not to be messed with. However, it is often due to this unceasing drive that a few things often drop beneath his radar, one of which being his health. It’s not that he doesn’t take care of himself, he truly does. He makes sure to eat healthily and tries his best to keep to a set sleep schedule when not on duty. However, when he is sick, it’s difficult for him to truly realize just how sick he is. It often takes an irate Sango to force him to rest after being notified by his worried fellow doushin.

Relationship-Focused

As sweet as he is, don’t expect to not get roped into odd situations if you choose to date someone like Heizou. As a doushin, it is his job to crack even the toughest of cases. And how lucky he is to have you help with that! With a charming smile, don’t be surprised if he asks you to try to stab him with a rusty knife while wearing a kitsune mascot costume. The outcome will provide key evidence in solving this latest case, after all! With your help, you will be able to solve the puzzle together. Aren’t you lucky?

---

Albedo Headcanons

Self-Focused

When the Knights of Favonius are in need of something alchemy related, it is often that they will go to Sucrose or Timmaeus first. Not that they can be blamed, of course. For small and often weird requests, who would ever think about going to a captain for help? Little do they know is that Albedo is much less likely to turn down a request than the other two. While he will delegate if it does not fall within his realm of area of expertise, Albedo, at his core, is both helpful and curious. Therefore he sees no harm in helping if he has the time. 

Relationship Focused

It isn’t that you didn’t expect much when you first agreed to date Albedo, it’s just you didn’t expect… what exactly? The way he pauses his studies whenever you come by? The way he takes your hand so naturally without batting an eye? The way he weaves his plans to spend time with you so effortlessly in your conversations? He catches you off guard every time, and you know it’s on purpose. You hate how he is such an unassuming natural romantic.

---

Xingqiu Headcanons

Self-Focused

Though many people have heard of the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, revitalizer of the famous Guhua Clan, most would not be able to point him out in a crowd. This is a conscious decision on Xingqiu’s part for two reasons. First, it is certainly not chivalrous to give into such boastful activities. Secondly, as a whole Xingqiu is happy the way he is. He does not want a prestigious position as the Guhua prodigy, nor does he need more duties to the guild. All that matters to him is to become a chivalrous hero like the stories he holds so dear. 

Relationship-Focused

Anyone that is close to Xingqiu knows that he loves to tease. One would think being in a relationship with him would make it easier, but it’s only made him worse. How he adores seeing your face heat up into a flustered blush. Really, he is the worse. So it’s safe to say you really did not expect the reaction you got upon giving him a taste of his own medicine. Not only did he turn away to hide his pinkened cheeks, but did he just stutter too? Hmm, perhaps he is as easy to tease as you. 

---

Kaeya Headcanons

Self-Focused

For someone as seemingly confident and laid-back as Captain Kaeya, many would not pin him for having weaknesses or insecurities. How could they? He is always giving of his time to patrol, assist Jean with her duties, play with Klee, conduct business trips… Even when not on duty, he can be found gathering intelligence at Angel’s Share, surveying possible abyssal hotspots, reporting his findings to the Dawn Winery… Kaeya always gives his time for others, but on his own, he will never take for himself. 

Relationship-Focused

Even if you are able to catch someone like Kaeya, do not be so foolish as to expect his heart will be yours. Try as you may, there will be a wall. You will not be able to trust the words that come from his lips, no matter how sweet. He will lie about his wants, needs, insecurities, troubles, and more. This isn’t because he hates you or wishes to play with your feelings. He doesn’t know how to open up. He doesn’t know how to be honest. You’ll have to prove yourself a person he can trust.

#genshin impact #shikanoin heizou #heizou #albedo #xingqiu #kaeya #heizou x reader #albedo x reader #xingqiu x reader #kaeya x reader #I AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #I WANTED IT TO BE GOOD AND KEPT JUST PUSHING IT BACK #TBH I STILL DON'T LIKE IT VERY MUCH #BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO KEEP YOU ANY LONGER #the thought i wanted to get across with heizou's relationship one is that he'll try to rope you into weird situations a lot #i wouldn't be surprised if your neighbors have visited once or twice concerned about the shadows or noise yall make #albedo is a natural and devious romantic #i also got his self-focused headcanon by the way he helps out paimon with her sunsettia long lasting thing #and making dinner for eula and the gang #xingqiu i have no comments #and kaeya #the self-focused one i wanted to get at but didn't know how to say is like.... #kaeya will always act for other people but he has a hard time acting for himself #he has a hard time being selfish #granted i didn't play his hangout yet so maybe i'll have to edit that eventually #what i didn't say about his relationship one is that while he does lie the only thing you can't trust are his words #you can trust his actions and his actions tell a lot about him #so you'll have to use those to navigate a relationship with him

[thecursedanon]

Amusement Park Shenanigans

Alternate title: Never agree to go to an amusement park w/ Gojo. Characters: Switch!Yuji, Lee!Nanami(technically switch!Nanami, but only briefly.) Ler!Gojo, Megumi, Nobara. (brief mentions of Shoko, Suguru and Haibara.) Genre: Fluff (also some hurt/comfort if you squint enough at certain points) Word count: 6388 Description: Gojo decides to take the students to the amusement park, and drags a very unwilling Nanami along with them... after trying to failing to convince Gojo to let him leave, and one too many grumpy remarks from Nanami, Gojo decides to do what Gojo does best... cause absolute chaos. Part 2: (click here)

It was a comfortable day, the weather was beginning to cool down as they just entered into fall. The leaves began to change into varying shades of amber or red, and everyone seemed a bit more light and cheerful at the beauty of the changing season.

Well… not quite everyone… 

You may not be very light or cheerful if you were stuck at an amusement park chaperoning a gaggle of students.

“Can we leave now?”

“Aw come on, Nanami,” Gojo pouted. “Lighten up! We're at an amusement park, you mean to tell me you're not having any fun?”

Or if you were Kento Nanami.

“Not in the slightest.” He retorted, still unsure just how he ended up accompanying them to begin with. It’s entirely possible Satoru had suggested he tag along and rather than argue with him, which would require paying attention, he half listened and just agreed to whatever childish assertion he had made. 

Satoru grinned at his friend’s discontentment. “Where's your sense of childlike adventure and amazement?? Just look at Yuji, he's having fun.”

The white haired teacher gestured to Yuji, who was currently stumbling around the park like a baby giraffe learning to walk, evidently dizzy from one too many go-arounds on the rollercoaster they just returned from.

They had stopped in an out of the way area of the park so that the boy could recover… which evidently wasn’t going well.

The pink haired teen eventually lost his fight with gravity and fell over, if this had been a cartoon you probably could have seen stars circling around his head.

“See? Childlike amazement.”

Yuji gave a grin to the others, a dazed look on his face. “I'm having so much fun!! Just tell me when the ride is over!”

Nanami gives the boy a silent look of concern as he sighs. 

“Alright alright, take five, ya finger eating freak.” Gojo laughed and bent down to pat the pinkette on the head. “But hey, don't just take Itadori’s word for it--” Suddenly Gojo was beside Nanami, whispering to him. “Because the kid is a little… strange.”

The next moment, Gojo was beside Megumi, who had a bright pink sakura flower balloon tied to his wrist and looked as though he was being held there against his will. “Megumi, you're having fun with your beloved sensei's, right?”

Megumi grunted in annoyance. “Somehow this is worse than that time you rented a bouncy house when I was ten…”

“Hey, kids love bouncy houses!” Gojo argued.

“Too bad it wasn't for them.” The edgy teen sighed, recalling what was apparently a painful memory for him.

Satoru pouted, pinching his emo son’s side, producing an uncharacteristic yip from the boy. “You can't argue that it wasn't a totally fun Friday night!”

“Fine… allow me to rephrase my question.” Nanami readjusted his sunglasses with a sigh, not bothering to cover up his annoyance with being dragged to a place full of people on one of his mythical days off. “Can I leave now?”

“Haaaah?? Why would you want to leave???” Gojo reacted as though he'd just witnessed a terrible accident in slow motion… kind of like Megumi recalling the bounce house incident . “This is family bonding day! And last time I checked you're still part of this family-- whether you like it or not!!” he quickly added at the end, sensing Nanami was about to deny it.

Nanami glanced at the group of kids they were chaperoning. “You know I hate amusement parks.” He said, this time quieter so only Satoru could hear him.

Gojo blinked in confusion from behind his sunglasses as he tried to pull a lost sequence from his memory. Did he know that? Now that he mentions it… he did recall something about an amusement park… but what?

While Satoru was silent (for once), Nanami took this as his chance to really try to convince him. “And besides… I doubt the kids would even notice I'm gone.”

Satoru stared blankly at the blonde, still attempting to force the two remaining neurons that weren’t focused on being a menace to spark the memory that was just evading his grasp… Can you hear the dial up tone?

“Hey… that’s not true!” Yuji interjected, pulling himself together as he stumbled towards his father figure. “I’d notice you were gone.”

Nanami’s face softened as he looked at Yuji. “Itadori… wouldn’t you have more fun running around with your friends? I’ll just slow you all down.” he responded, his tone less harsh than before.

“No way, I won’t have nearly as much fun without you here.” He frowned, hitting Nanami with one of the classics… the puppy dog eyes. (dun dun dunnnn)

“Y-Yuji.” Kento warned, shifting his gaze uncomfortably away from his student but no matter where he looked there Yuji was… leaning more and more into the act.

“OH! I remember now!” Gojo said suddenly, inadvertently startling Yuji and causing him to fall over, evidently still not fully recovered from all the roller coaster rides.

Nanami flinched inwardly as Gojo leaned closer to him. “What?”

“Come on, Kento… how can you say no to that sweet boy? He looks like he’s about to cry…” The chaotic teacher cooed at Yuji as he resumed his puppy dog eyes… from his new spot sitting on the ground.

Nanami huffed, turning away again as he crossed his arms. “Itadori… Just because that works on Megumi and Gojo doesn’t mean it’s going to work on me..”

“How hurtful! I think you owe us an apology for being so grumpy…” Satoru mused, winking at Yuji as if to tell him to follow his lead.

“I am not apologizing to you…” Kento grumbled, briefly shooting a glare to the white haired man.

“No? Be reeeeeally sure about that before you respond.” Gojo warned the blonde teacher.

“I said no.”

Satoru sighed softly with an almost threatening grin on his face, slowly slipping his sunglasses off and attaching them to his shirt collar. “I didn’t want to do this… but you leave me no choice.”

Nanami scoffed and turned back around to face him, upon locking eyes with the older man, he felt a familiar wave of panic flood over him. “Satoru…” Panic he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Gojo grinned even more as he rolled up his sleeves, approaching him slowly. “Yes, Kento?”

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

Kento mentally swore at himself for backing away from Satoru, he should be standing his ground right now… but that look… he recognized that look a little too well. And he didn't like it… (or did he?)

“Well, since you’re being such a grump I figured I’d fix your attitude for you.” Gojo hummed, a predatory glimmer in his eyes as he began to close the gap between them, raising his hands. “A few pokes here, a few squeezes there… and a whole bunch of tickles right there and voila! Good as new! One happy giggly Nanami ready to spend time with us without much complaint!”

Nanami’s eyes widened as he felt the color drain from his face. “Satoru… I will end you if you do this in front of the students.” he hissed as he began to back away again.

“What students? They’ve all scampered off… well, except for that kiddo right there.”

As if on cue, Itadori hooked his arms around Nanami from behind, grinning at the soft gasp he received. “What's wrong, Sensei? You look a little nervous…” the teen grinned.

“Itadori,” Nanami struggled in his hold to no avail, Yuji was using all of his strength to contain the stoic teacher in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from breaking free. “if you don't let me go right now, so help me…”

“Threatening the students now, Nanami??” Gojo gasped melodramatically, slowly reaching his hands forward towards his squirming torso. “I'm shocked! Now I really have no choice but to adjust your attitude~”

Kento paused, his eyes catching sight of the slightly wiggling fingers that were inching closer. He felt another wave of panic rush over him, but attempted to not let it show, steeling his face as he forced himself to look away from Satoru. “Yuji… please let me go. I'm sorry for upsetting you.” He tried his hand at reasoning with the student as a last resort.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive any support there either. Yuji smiled, angling his head upwards to rest his chin on the back of Nanami’s shoulder. “There's no need to be sorry… I know crowds aren't really your scene.” He sympathized. “But… I did mean what I said. I do want you here… so I'm sorry for ambushing you like this.”

“Oh, so you can apologize to him, but not me??”

“Of course I can, I actually care about him.” Nanami retorted dryly, despite his impending doom.

Satoru gasped, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in closer, speaking in a quieter tone. “You know, Nanami… if you wanted to be smothered with tickles so badly, all you had to do was ask~”

Satoru leaned back, allowing his teasing words to sink in for full effect before cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Alright Itadori, make sure to hold him niiiice and still for me, okay? Our dear sweet Nanami here turns into a wiggle-worm when he gets laughing.” he grinned as Yuji nodded in support, tightening his arms around him, but not so much so that it caused him any real discomfort.

“Both of you… this is ridiculous.” Nanami sighed, hoping if he didn't give the reaction he was looking for hoping that he'd grow bored quickly and go back to whining… as much as Kento hated his incessant whining. “Can you both stop being so chi--” he promptly stopped mid sentence as he felt Satoru grab his sides, lightly fluttering his grip.

“I'm sorry, what was that Nanami?” Gojo grinned. “I didn't quite catch that… what should we stop being?”

Kento took a subtle steadying breath, locking eyes with his tormenter with a blank look on his face. He didn't even dare to so much as flinch when Gojo touched him.

“As I was saying… can you both stop being so childish?” He answered calmly, outwardly unfazed by the maddeningly light teasing touches Satoru was administering to his sides.

Inwardly though… he was struggling to maintain his composure, trying desperately not to show any signs of weakness despite how god awfully, completely and utterly ticklish it felt... 

“Childish? Nanami… there's nothing wrong with a little tickling, It serves as a great bonding experience!” Satoru said cheerfully, leaning in closer to tease the blonde. “Especially when you're as ticklish as we both know you are…~”

Nanami choked back his retort, focusing his efforts on keeping his icy composure. “Satoru… the last time you… did this- was when we were in school together.” He reminded his colleague, careful with his words so as not to fluster himself any further than he already was inside. “I've long since grown out of that childish sensitivity…”

But unfortunately nothing slips past Satoru and his infamous Six Eyes, the cheeky little bastard.

“Oho, did you now?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at his bold assertion, taking his defiance as a full blown challenge. “Well in that case, you shouldn't mind this then… right?”

He walked his fingers slowly up and down his sides, inching closer to his ribs with each trip up.

Nanami broke eye contact with him in an attempt to not react, feeling flustered at the teasing look in his eyes. “Of course I mind it… I don't like being touched by you.”

Yuji blinked, surprised at his calm and even tone. Had this been him instead of Nanami he would've been on the ground in a heap of giggles by now. “Hmm…”

Gojo knew better though, he knew he was slowly chipping away at his defenses. He could see the subtle cues, feel his muscles twitching. “Yes, Yuji? What ails you, my dear boy?” He asked, glancing over Kento’s shoulder to meet Yuji’s gaze- well, what he could glimpse of it with how the pinkette had his face angled, anyway.

“Maybe he's right,” Itadori said with a note of genuine seriousness. “Maybe he's not ticklish anymore… I know I'd be a mess right now.”

“Well, that's because you're hopelessly ticklish~” Gojo teased his student with a wink, grinning at the flustered look Itadori shot him. “So is Nanami though, maybe even just as bad as you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw in aggravation, barely resisting the urge to blush. “I am not. And stop talking about me like I'm not here!”

“But he's not reacting… not even his breathing is off.” Itadori ignored his teacher's protest, continuing to converse with Satoru.

“Well, Itadori, that's because Nanami here is what we call; ✨stubborn✨, and also shy.” Gojo grinned at his students' newfound curiosity, using this to his advantage as another form of teasing. “He needs some gentle reassurances that it's okay if he gives in to the nice tickly tickles and starts blushing and giggling like a schoolboy.” 

“Shut up. I most certainly do not giggle.” Nanami hissed in protest, feeling his face flush.

Whoopsie, that was a big chunk of his facade chipped away, watch your step everyone…

“Aww, see? He's already getting blushy.” Gojo cooed, brushing his fingertips against the bottom of the blonde's ribs. “It's okay, Kento… I don't mind being patient. That cute little laugh of yours is well worth the wait.”

Nanami took a sharp intake of breath, hating the feeling of how each gentle swipe across his ticklish midsection was chipping away at his sanity. “It's not… cute.” He forced out from behind gritted teeth.

Itadori raised an eyebrow, feeling his sensei tremble ever so slightly in his hold. “Does he really have a cute laugh?” He asked, grinning.

“No!”

Gojo laughed at Kento's quick rebuttal. “Yuji, come now, what about Nanami isn't utterly adorable~?” He continued dancing his fingertips lightly across what wasn't blocked off of Kento's ribs. “You know what's reeeeeally adorable about him?”

“What's that?”

“That he can't handle being teased... He gets extra giggly and blushy~” Gojo grinned, leaning in to speak quietly to Yuji, but just loud enough for Kento to still hear. This somehow made the snarky bastard's teases worse.

“Dammit… st-stop it already…!” Nanami huffed, squirming uselessly.

“Naaanami… does this tiiiiickle?” He teased, cooing at him like a damn toddler.

The younger teacher let out a growl of frustration, turning his head to face away from Gojo in a weak attempt to hide his darkening blush. He felt his body beginning to tremble as Gojo completely demolished his defenses.

“Come onnn… let us hear that adorable laugh~” he grinned, deciding to take things up a notch. He honed in on the sensitive spots between his ribs, giving light scratches to the area.

“Stop… I mean it…” he growled, forcing back any embarrassing sounds that may have tried to escape his throat. 

“What's this?? Do I see a smile on your face? but I thought you weren't ticklish anymore, Kento. What gives?” Gojo teased, grinning devilishly.

“Maybe he's finally starting to have fun spending time with us.” Yuji grinned. Thanks Yuji… we knew we could count on you to not bully Nanami too.

“Ooo, maybe! Does that mean you're actually going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“Not on your life.” Kento hissed, his lips trembling as they formed a panicky smile.

“Aww! You're so mean to me…” Satoru whined, an evil glimmer in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Fine then, since you're going to be so mean, maybe I'll go for your extra tickly spots… now where were those again…?” 

Nanami froze up as he felt Gojo pull a hand back to tap his chin in thought. In the process of doing so, he skimmed his fingertips against Nanami's waist, more specifically along the edge of his stomach. “S-Satoru…”

“Where oh where were those…” Gojo mumbled to himself, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he dropped his other hand, his fingers grazing Nanami's hip. “Oh… I just can't remember… the years are really starting to affect my memory!” He reached up to gently tap Kento's forehead to add emphasis to his words, but on the way up he brushed his fingers lightly against his neck.

Each ‘accidental’ touch, caused Nanami to flinch, the older of the two making sure his victim was well aware he knew exactly where his worst spots were… in his own chaotic Gojo way, of course.

“It’s a shame, really.” Satoru sighed, while he had Nanami distracted and on edge he mouthed a command to Yuji. 

The pinkette grinned mischievously, nodding his compliance as Nanami watched his other teacher cautiously.

“But, what can ya do? That's just life… as we get older, we become slower to react.” The white haired man shrugged, making sure both of his hands were perfectly visible as he did so.

And that's when he struck.

Itadori, without moving too much, reached down with a clawed hand and clawed into the spot along his waist that Satoru had sneakily pointed out earlier, having seen that Yuji was paying attention. (For once.)

Nanami gasped sharply, barking out an involuntary laugh. Shock crashing over him. “No, I-Ihihitadohohori!” The dam finally broke, laughter pouring freely from his lips. “Wahahahait!”

Satoru let out a low whistle. “What's this? I thought big scary Nanami wasn't ticklish anymore?” He smirked.

Nanami blushed, unable to stop the laughter that spilled forth. “Gojoho Ihihihi swehehear… I'm gonnahaha kihihihill you!” He threatened, though his words were… less than intimidating to say the least.

“Wow, you were actually right, Gojo.” Yuji chuckled. “His laugh is pretty cute.”

“Itadorihihi Hohohow could youhuhu?!” Kento's complaints about Yuji's betrayal were broken up by his warm, light laughter. 

Yuji grinned, moving around with his writhing teacher. “You also weren't kidding, he's really squirmy!”

Gojo smiled at the two of them, his mischief briefly shifted into warmth as he was brought back to a happier time.

Watching Yuji and Nanami now, he sees years of anguish and pain melt away even if just for a moment. 

For that moment, Satoru can see a young Nanami being absolutely destroyed with tickles by Haibara, Geto and himself while Shoko shakes her head and giggles at their antics.

It's definitely been far too long.

Gojo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Geez Yuji, I told you to keep him still.” He chuckled at how Itadori was practically hanging off of Nanami's back as Nanami had managed to double over with laughter.

“Hey, it's a lot harder than it looks!” Yuji laughed, his fingers dancing relentlessly along the side of his stomach.

“You have superhuman strength and can call on the power of the king of curses… and this is difficult for you?”

“Listen--” Yuji laughed again. “I can be strong all I want, but there's only so much I can do without any help!”

“Surprisingly wise words from you, Itadori.” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Alright alright, I'll help.”

He reached forward, grabbing a hold of Nanami whilst simultaneously administering some quick sneaky tickles to Itadori.

“Hehehey! Do you want mehe to fall?!” Yuji complained, trying to shift away from Gojo's soft pokes and scribbles while keeping his balance.

“Ehh… you've already fallen twice today… What's a third time?” He grinned, tickling Itadori’s neck with one hand, and targeting Nanami's hip with the other.

“Nohoho! Sahahatoru gehehet away!” Nanami laughed, trying desperately to escape the two tickle monsters he had attached to him.

Itadori let out a childish squeal as he flailed, finally falling off of Nanami’s back. He still had a partial grip on his mentor and ended up pulling him to the ground with him.

Gojo laughed, releasing both of them from his tickly hold. 

Nanami had managed to twist around, catching Itadori and breaking his fall with his arm.

Itadori giggled softly as he recovered from the tickles. He felt Nanami carefully press his hand into the back of his neck, then his shoulder, then brush against the back of his head silently assessing the teen making sure he wasn't hurt.

Had it been Gojo who had fallen with him, he wouldn't have cared, and not bothered trying to break his fall. But since it was Itadori- he didn't want him to get hurt.

Once he determined Yuji was okay his body went limp, resting back against the ground while he focused on steadying his breathing.

“Thanks a lot, Gojo…” Yuji huffed, a smile still etched on his face.

“To be fair, I didn't say who I was helping...” Gojo teased, kneeling down beside the teen.

Kento huffed indignantly, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as he caught his breath. “You're both terrible…” 

Satoru turned his gaze to Nanami, an evil smile on his lips. “Oh, Kento… you didn't honestly think I was done with you yet, did you?” His blue eyes sparkled with a predatory glimmer as he launched himself onto the blonde, thanks to limitless Nanami wasn’t able to put up much fight. 

“Really?” Nanami glared up at him, his sunglasses long since fallen off his face from all his struggling earlier. 

Satoru smiled triumphantly from his spot on Nanami’s thighs.

“You can’t even take me on without the use of your stupid limitless ability?” The stern teacher asked dryly, knowing any struggling his did would be pointless. He wasn’t going anywhere as long as Satoru kept limitless active.

“I thought I’d save us some time… we both know I was gonna overpower you anyways.” Gojo grinned, leaning down and draping his body lazily across Nanami’s to keep him more securely in place, and in doing so he was able to murmur teases into his ear. “All I’d have to do to get the upper hand is…”

He grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hip and began squeezing them relentlessly. “This…”

Nanami gasped sharply, unable to grab the offending hands because again, limitless. “Sahahatoru! D-Dahahahammit stop!”

“Or this…” Satoru shifted his hands upwards, scribbling his blunt nails against the sides of his stomach over his shirt, drawing even louder laughter from the blonde. The fact he could barely move to protect himself made it so much worse.

“Or… this.” Gojo grinned, pressing his lips to his neck and blowing a raspberry against it whilst administering gentle scritches.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT!” Poor Nanami couldn’t even arch his back with Gojo a firm weight against him.

“I think you should’ve just rode the ferris wheel with me.” Satoru teased, blowing another raspberry.

“EHEHEHENouGH Alreheheheady! Ahahahaha!”

“I thought you didn’t giggle, Nanami sensei.” Yuji grinned in amusement, sneaking in some teasing pokes to what he could access of Nanami’s ribs.

Gojo grinned, angling his body in a way that the pinkette had more access the right side of his body while still keeping him firmly held down. 

“You didn’t seriously-” small raspberry. “--believe him over me-” slightly bigger raspberry. “--did you?” BIIIIIG raspberry, followed by what Kento would firmly deny was a squeal. Because if he doesn't giggle, then he CERTAINLY doesn’t squeal. 

Itadori giggled at his reactions, scooting closer to scribble his fingers up and down the side of his ribcage. “No, but I also didn’t have a basis to doubt Nanami either.”

“Oh yes you did.” Gojo laughed, pulling his face away from the blonde’s neck to glance at Itadori. “You had to know he was lying the minute he denied being ticklish still.”

Well fine… If he can’t get Satoru then… “Ihihihi-- I thohohohught Ihi told you tohoho stahap talking about mehehe like I’m not here!” Kento shot his hand out, grabbing hold of Yuji’s side and giving it fluttery squeezes, drawing surprised laughter from the student.

“Aieee! Hehehehehey! Hohohohow are you moving?! Stahahap that!” Yuji squealed as Kento latched onto his ribs next. “Gohohohohojo hehehehelp!”

“Nahhh… You’re a big boy… you can deal with him yourself.” Satoru grinned, alternating between his hip and stomach side with gentle scratches. “It’ll be a good training exercise for you… let me juuust… piss him off a little more for ya~”

“Gohohohohojo!” 

“Sahahahahtoru, I swehehehear to god!”

Satoru ignored both of their protests, pushing his shirt up so he could attack his exposed skin directly. “So If my memory serves correctly, your ticklish spots are as follows,” he grinned, sitting upright. “Hips, Neck, this cute spot here~” he emphasized by fluttering his fingers briefly against his stomach sides. “Ribs are decently tickly… Am I missing anything, Nanami? Am I hitting all the nice tickly spots?”

“S-Satoru… dohon’t.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I mean it…”

Satoru grinned. “But Kento, I promised to smother you with tickles… and I wouldn’t wanna disappoint you. So come on, answer my question~”

“Go to hell.” He hissed in response.

Gojo’s grin widened. Welp, nice knowing ya, Nanami.

“On second thought, maybe I will help you, Itadori.” He reached out and grabbed Nanami’s wrist and yanked it away from the pinkette, pinning it above his head quickly and firmly. In a flash, he snatched his other hand and pinned it above his head as well.

Yuji fell back with his arms around his midsection, giggling softly as he panted from the after tickles.

“Gojo, let me go right now.” Kento growled.

Satoru leaned down, grinning that evil grin at him. “Do you really think you're in a position to give me orders?”

“What are you… no… don’t you dare-- nononono!”

Gojo leaned down further, pressing his lips against Kento's exposed stomach and blowing a giant raspberry against it, eliciting an honest to god shriek in response.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAHAHAMMIT!” He let out another shriek as the arrogant teacher dispensed yet another devastating raspberry against his toned abdomen. 

Yuji sat up, stunned by the sound of his loud laughter. “Holy shit, Gojo don’t kill him!”

The teacher in question grinned, placing another raspberry against a different spot on his stomach. “Jealous, kid? Don’t worry, I have plenty of tickles to go around.” He winked at the pink haired student, who giggled nervously and wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously.

“GOHOHOHOHJO STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!” Nanami pressed out between deep belly laughs, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.

“Aww, but why when you’re having so much fun?” Gojo teased, placing another raspberry. “I remember this used to be your favorite~” 

“I SWEHEHEHEHEAR TO GAHAHAHAD, I WIHIHIHILL EHEHEHEND YOU!”

“Man, you’ve definitely gotten more stubborn and resilient… usually by now you would’ve been apologizing profusely and crying with laughter while begging me to stop.” Gojo chuckled, pausing his ruthless onslaught. “Or maybe…”

He leaned back to admire his handiwork, Kento a breathless blushing mess beneath him. “Maybe you don’t really want me to stop…” his grin widened when he saw Nanami open his eyes and attempt to glare at him. 

“W-Why would… you possibly think that… i…” He gasped out softly, still attempting to catch his breath. 

“Well… why else would you be so grumpy and resistant this whole time unless you wanted to egg me on?”

“To be fair… he is normally like this.” Yuji pointed out.

Satoru shifted so that he could hold both of Nanami’s arms down with one hand, using his newly freed hand to administer swift tickles to Itadori’s side. “Excuse me, but whose side are you on anyway???”

Yuji squealed and recoiled sharply from Gojo’s skilled fingers. “Ihihi wahahas just being hohohonest!”

“And now you’ve distracted me and given him time to think out his response,” Satoru huffed. “You’re definitely gonna get it later, now.”

Itadori squeaked, wrapping himself back up with his arms.

“Well Kento? I’m waiting, why are you egging it on if you don’t like it?” The older teacher turned his attention back to the now less breathless blonde, thanks to the intermission brought to you by Itadori and his big fat mouth.

“Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of breaking, that’s why.” He retorted, his face less flushed than previously.

“Ehh! wrong!” Satoru unleashed another tickle attack, his fingers scribbling all across his neck. “Try again!”

“Sahahahahatoru Stahahap!”

“Not until you admit it.” Gojo smirked. 

“Ahahahadmit whahahahat?”

“Admit you missed being wrecked, ya big softie!” He cooed, tracing his fingers along each rib.

“I dihihihihidn’t!” Nanami yelped, squirming as much as he could under his colleague’s technique.

“Wrong again. Itadori, be a peach and come help me, won’t you? It seems Nanami requires more reassurance.”

“Ihihihitadori dohohohon’t!”

“You’re not going to tickle me again, are you?” Itadori asked carefully, eyeing his teacher suspiciously.

“I will if you don’t get your ass over here In the next five seconds.” he responded, an evil glimmer in his eyes.

Itadori let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper as he quickly shuffled over. 

“Gojo, Itadori… don’t even--” His protest was interrupted by another shriek as Gojo blew a massive raspberry against his stomach side.

He released Nanami’s wrists, which Yuji instantly snatched up and pinned down. Gojo used his newly freed hands to drill his thumbs into Kento’s hips as he continued his torturous trail of raspberries and tickly death along his stomach area.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHATORU DOHOHOHOHNT!”

“You know how to make it stop, Nanami~” Gojo hummed, administering another devastatingly massive raspberry against the side of his stomach.

“JUHUHUHUST WAHAHAHAIT UNTIL I GEHEHET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SOHOHOHON OF A BIHIHIHIHITCH!” The usually stoic teacher threatened between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Yuji snickered quietly. “He’s definitely stubborn...” the pink haired teen grinned, shifting so that he could pin Nanami’s hands down with his knee. “Let me take a crack at it!”

He began to claw at his mentors exposed ribcage, his fingers gentle but quick as they expertly sought out sensitive spots. “Nanami~ Does this tiiiiickle?” Yuji teased.

“IHIHIHITADORI! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OFF! STAHAHAP HELPING HIM!”

Gojo chuckled, pausing his attack to glance up at Itadori. “You’re getting pretty good at this, I’ve taught you well~” 

Yuji grinned at the praise from Satoru. “Heh… thanks. I’m just doing what tickles really bad from my own experience.”

The pinkette noticed the higher he moved up Nanami’s ribs, the more he struggled. “Gojo… are you sure those were all of Nanami’s ticklish spots you named off earlier…?”

“Hmmmm? Think I missed a spot?” Satoru played along, grinning that cheshire grin at his student. “It’s entirely possible… he never did confirm or deny if I named ‘em all.”

“Nanami?” Yuji looked down as he stilled his hands, allowing his teacher to attempt to catch his breath. “Did he miss a spot?” he asked innocently, but that smile on his face was anything but.

“I swehehear to god…” He panted. “Whehen I get my hands on you…”

“Now Nanami… that doesn’t sound like an answer to his question~” Gojo grinned, prodding his stomach side and producing a small yelp.

“It’s okay, Gojo.” Yuji responded with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Then he struck. Digging mercilessly wiggling fingers into his armpits. 

And boy, did Nanami absolutely lose it. Any semblance of composure? Yeah no, gone, we don’t know her. 

Much like Yuji isn’t going to know peace when Nanami gets his hands on him. Rip Yuji lol.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He absolutely howled with laughter, struggling with all his might to break free. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!”

“WHOA! Gojo you didn’t just miss a ticklish spot, you missed the ticklish spot!” Yuji found himself laughing along with his mentor in amusement.

“It looks that way,” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. “So, Kento? Anything you wanna say?”

He grinned, leaning down and placing his elbows on either side of the hysterical blonde, resting his face on his hands as he watched him. In doing this, he was almost entirely draped over him again, greatly limiting his movements.

“SAHAHAHATORU I HAHAHAHATE YOU!”

Satoru chuckled, “Not quite… I think what you mean’t to say was, ‘Satoru, I actually love spending time with all of you.’ and ‘I actually like being tickled.’”

Yuji giggled, speeding up his tickles.

“GAHAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAHANT… PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!” He cried with laughter, tears prickling at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE YUHUHUHUJI!”

For a moment, Itadori felt a little bad and looked at Gojo, who shook his head. “Trust me, kid… you’re gonna wanna keep going.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” was the blue eyed teacher’s vague and careful response.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter started to become hoarse as he tried to hide his face in his bicep. “OKAHAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL RIDE THE STUHUHUHUPID FERRIS WHEEL WIHIHITH YOU!”

“Noooo… we’re way past that, the other paaaart.” Satoru reminded teasingly, pinching his side.

“AHAHAHA! FIHIHIHIHINE!! I LIHIHIHIKE SPEHEHEHENDING TIME WITH YOUHUHUHU GUYS!”

“Aaaaand?” 

Oh, Gojo was sooooooo going to get it when he got ahold of him.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” 

Yuji looked up, grinning upon seeing Megumi standing there; pink balloon and all. “Hey Megu-- ACK!”

Nobara came running out of nowhere and knocked Yuji off of Nanami. “Hey, stop picking on Nanami!” she scolded.

Satoru sighed, grinning. Eh… close enough. He rolled off of Nanami lazily, remaining propped up on his elbows next to him.

“Ow! Jeez Nobara! It’s not like I was hurting him or anything, you didn’t have to knock me over.” He mumbled, sitting up.

“He very clearly was struggling to breathe.” Megumi pointed out, eyeing Satoru. “I’m gonna guess this was your idea?”

“How’d ya know, Gumi?” He asked cheerfully.

“Whenever there’s chaos going on you’re the cause.” The edgy teen pointed out, sitting on the ground with the others to feel included.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Nobara asked, helping Nanami up into a sitting position. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The blonde shook his head, a smile still on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “No… That won’t… be necessary…”

Yuji giggled, leaning over and hugging Nanami. “Sorry I went a little overboard… It was just really nice to see and hear you laugh… I hope you’re not too mad at me.”

Nanami sighed as he (mostly) caught his breath, he reached up and hooked his arm around Yuji’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head as he pulled him closer into the hug. “I’m not mad… embarrassed, but not mad…”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Yuji pulled back slightly to look up at him, confused.

Nanami retorted with a ‘You’re joking, right?’ expression on his face.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all goof around like this all the time.” Itadori grinned, beaming up at Megumi, who quickly looked away to avoid blushing at the implication. He then turned his gaze to Nobara, who also looked away with a casual whistle. 

“He’s right,” Satoru chimed in, sitting upright. “It just means we really like you when we pick on you like this.” Yuji nodded in agreement.

“You could like me a little less.” Kento muttered.

“You rested enough to chase down Itadori?” Satoru asked, grinning.

“Not quite…”

“Why would he chase me down?” Yuji pulled away from Nanami, eyeing the stern teacher carefully.

“Ohhh… I forgot to tell you.” Gojo grinned more. “Yeah, there’s a reason I ‘forgot’ his worst spot… It’s because he absolutely destroys anyone who targets it as retaliation.”

Yuji squeaked, noticing the evil glimmer in Nanami’s eyes.

“Yeahhh… Let’s just say ratio can be used for more than pain… Suguru and I learned that one the hard way.” He snickered at the terrified look on Itadori’s face.

“Y-You set me up!”

“I did nothing of the sort, you’re the one who decided to try that spot.” Satoru grinned. “I’d probably start running if I were you… the more tired he is the more head start you have, and since you’ve wasted so much time letting him recover… I’d say you have about a minute to get as far as humanly possible before he hunts you down.”

Yuji yelped and sprung up, taking Gojo’s advice and running away, causing the others to laugh.

“Hey, Megumi, where’d your balloon go?” Nobara asked.

Megumi smirked and shrugged. “Beats me…” 

Nanami was about to get up and go after the pinkette when Gojo leaned forward, hugging his colleague, causing him to tense up. “I’m sorry, Kento… I forgot you used to go to the amusement park with Haibara on the weekends…” he whispered. “But I think he would still want you to go out and have fun… I know Suguru would want that for me.” 

Nanami untensed, frowning as he thought about his deceased best friend. He hugged him back hesitantly. “I miss him… a lot…”

“I know… I do too.”

After a moment they let go. “Hey Satoru…?”

“Yea?”

“...Thanks…” He looked away as he quietly continued. “I… needed that.”

Gojo grinned. “Anytime, buddy~”

Nanami looked around curiously. “Now then, which way did Itadori go? I need to have a talk with him…”

“He went that way.” Nobara pointed off in a direction.

“He should be pretty easy to spot,” Megumi said casually, sipping his drink. “Just look for the person running frantically with a pink sakura balloon attached to his belt.”

Nanami smirked, nodding his thanks as he got up and took off after the pink haired teen.

“I so wanna see this…” Nobara giggled, getting up too. “You coming, Megumi?”

The raven haired teen shook his head, to which Nobara shrugged at and went running after them. “Nanami sensei, wait up! I wanna help!!”

Satoru chuckled and shook his head before turning to address his adopted son. “Did ya have fun today, kiddo?” he asked as he ruffled his dark hair.

Megumi grunted in response.

A shriek nearby distracted them momentarily, causing them both to laugh. Evidently Yuji had been caught.

“I’ve had worse days.” The teen answered, standing up with his parental figure.

Gojo grinned, his face brightening as he threw his arm around his edgy emo son’s shoulders, pulling him into him as they began walking. He knew that was Fushiguro for; ‘Yes dad, I had a wonderful time today.’

“Good. Now then… let’s go get some snacks or something, I saw they were selling cotton candy as big as your head at one of these stalls…”

“I'd be more impressed if they had cotton candy the size of your mouth.”

#jjk tickle #jujutsu kaisen tickle #sfw tickling community #tword community #tickle content #tickle fanfic #Lee!Nanami #Ler!Gojo #Switch!Yuji #Lee!Nanami my beloved #Gojo being Gojo xD #this started as a joke in my brain #but then i just started coming up with funnier ideas while i was heading home from work #and i was driven by my desire to add to the lee!Nanami population wheeeeee #Gojo is a teasy bastard ler and you can't convince me otherwise #poor nanami never stood a chance #yuji my sweet summer child... #how easily youre roped into his shenanigans #okay but ratio being used to make ticklish people even more ticklish??? where do i sign??? #Suguru and Satoru both being little shits and getting wrecked by ticklish!ratio brings me so much serotonin <3 #megumi is a mood as usual #he's so fed up with everyones shit but still plays along because he likes to be included #whoops how did that balloon get there? #p.s nanami totally didn't mind the tickles bye #I intended to add Inumaki & Maki & even Panda but didn't want to make this even longer #whoopsies... #also rip Yuji #he's probably deceased now that Nanami got ahold of him #Gojo's next lmao #I kept cracking up laughing at the childlike amazement part and i'm not even sorry for it

[jadeazora]

This turned up in my FB memories today. I've been asking for a rival to undergo an alignment shift ever since at least Gen6.

So, man, do I feel some serious vindication now we've got Kieran. I'm strongly leaning towards the possession theory being a thing, taken over by the Toxic Chain in his pursuit of power, so I guess it's kinda joining up with the L3 trio master in a way. (The resentment towards us for lying about Ogerpon, constantly beating him in battle, and stealing his dream out from underneath his nose is still very much his own, tho.)

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #rival kieran #pokemon kieran #the teal mask #pokemon sv dlc #i guess we could consider paulo #but he didn't really get the chance to go too far #giovanni put a stop to him real quick #he kept afloat better too up until ghetsis had apparently killed rockruff #and even then he was still targeting the villains rather than the heroes #he just needed to be stopped since he was also targeting the villains #who were no longer a threat

[kanene-yaaay]

Oh, To Die By Your Hands

Kanene's notes: IT SEEMS SO SERIOUS WITH THAT TITLE KJUHYTFRGHUJK Nah, just your normal tickle fic with not so much normal characters. Fit and Pac have been living rent free in my mind since before Purgatory and after their date??? I am dead on the floor. Get a man who will declare his feelings for you in your native language for real for real.

Warnings: Lots of nibbles, tickly kisses and raspberries in this one. Switch!Fit and Switch!Pac. Around 6.500 words. Also! I tried to add the way that Pac calls Fit because of his accent written on the fic because I think it's lovely and cute. Hope it isn't too much confunsing or strange :D

[~*~]

“Thank you for coming, Pac. Ramón really likes when you sing him that lullaby.” His voice was rough but soft, just like his entire form and self when it came to his son, his beautiful baby boy. 

Pac smiled, also following his example and lowering his voice, closing the secured door of the kid’s room carefully before they both headed to the other room where they held their first date, a prep on his step. “It’s no problem, Fitch! Actually, I don’t know why he likes that one so much, it literally talks about how a Cuca, which is like… a kind of monster? I don’t know how to explain. But how she will grab, or better, uh, snatch the kid away because the parents are out working.”

A loud peal of laughter was pried from the mercenary’s lips, staring at the other with unbelief in his eyes. “Wait, wait, that is the actual meaning of the song?”

“Yeah, yeah! I don’t know why they made it so scary. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if someone sang it to me before putting me to bed.”

“Damn, brazilian lullabies are just at a hardcore level.”

“Teaches you to sleep with one eye open, right?”

“That is right, that is right.”

They shared smiles. Arriving at the place, the air was still light, but it wasn’t difficult to see the question itching Pac’s throat, wanting to jump out of his body. It was in the way that he walked closely by Fit side and how he kept sneaking glances at him, quickly deviating them to look around the room before going back to stare, keeping the cycle for a while. Each time his steps got closer and closer until their hands intertwined in a hold.

It made sense he would be like that, of course. Fit would be just the same if his boyfriend woke him up in the middle of the night asking him to come to his place to help to calm down his kid after a nightmare because he wasn’t able to. 

Still, he was glad that no questions were asked, not when Pac arrived - barely half a minute later after he sent his message, sleep and anxiety clinging like a shadow to his form - and not now, as the storm seemed to have passed.

Shame, however, kept flowing hot in his veins. He and Ramón had been alone since… always, really. They both had dealt with each other’s nightmares and night terrors more times than they could count. This one wasn’t supposed to be different. Shouldn’t be different. He should be there the moment his boy opened the door of his room with tears streaming down his face, sobs stubbornly escaping from his firmly pressed lips and hands open for a comforting hug that Fit should be able to give, a rare show of a child that his baby boy was, but refused to demonstrate most of time.

And yet…

Fit himself hadn’t been much better. Hadn’t been better for a long time, now. Because everytime he closed his eyes the threat from Madagio filled his mind and nightmares kept permeating his every night for the past two weeks, crowding his mind with horrifying scenarios that shouldn’t, but shook his core. 

Usually, he would just wake up, push all of it - the feelings, the fears, the screams begging for their life - deep down his chest and hope that it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

Nevertheless to say, as all the things in life, it definitely did. 

Because that night, when Ramón looked at his face - and god knows what he saw there - he stopped right in his tracks and carefully signed his name. He had been crying, he had been crying and scared and tired and all Fit could think - because words simply didn’t come out, no matter how much he tried to spill, spit them to comfort his kid - is that he could kill him. So quickly. Easily, even, with a twist of his wrist, a swipe of his trident, a pull from his bomb stacks, he could kill him and suddenly he was frozen on the spot, unable to even get closer to his son. 

If Madagio had any power like the Federation, it could control him and destroy his most precious riches in a matter of seconds. It wouldn’t need to come to the island. It wouldn’t even need to pull Fit from it to make his life a living hell.

“There is something that we need to talk, Pac. Please take a seat.”

So, he called Pac. He deserved to know exactly what he was getting into (how many times would they have this kind of conversation?) and Ramón deserved a father who would actually get his shit together and get over it.

Pac gulped and looked at him slightly startled, knowing very well what the serious tune could mean, probably with a thousand of scenarios already running at light speed in his mind. “O-of course, Fitch.”

He then softly squeezed his hand - because there was no universe where Pac wouldn’t be perfect and strong and there but sometimes Fit seemed to forget that so he had to remind him - and let it go, sitting on the blue couch Fit recently added on the room and expectantly waiting for the other to do the same.

Which he promptly did - of course, because there wasn’t any universe where he would go and Fit wouldn’t immediately follow him. 

“Wine? What about wine? Do you want some wine?” The brazilian offered, pulling glasses from his well trusted backpack and a bottle from the refrigerator nearby. 

“Already wanting to take me to bed, Pac? Wow.” 

“No! Stop it.” Pac lightly shoved his arm, both chuckling for a bit before Fit sobered, taking a deep breath and a sip of the liquid. It was good stuff, probably from Aypierre’s vines. “Thought we were here to have a serious conversation, no?”

“We are.” 

Fit stopped, pondered how he would put it in words. It didn’t matter, there was no easy way to put it.

“Pac, would you kill me if it was necessary?”

The scientist sputtered, almost choking on the wine before turning in alarm to stare at the other, his gaze zig zagging across his body as if it would transform at any moment into an enemy, a monster in disguise pretending to be his boyfriend right in front of him. 

He didn’t doubt Pac’s abilities, even if Pac himself hardly believed in them. He was an extremely good fighter, going through monsters and battles with a calm demeanor and precise, strong attacks that ended the conflict as soon as possible. Fit was very skilled, himself. But he was sure that if Pac used one of his brilliant plans and his scythe, it would take a lot, but he would eventually come down.

But, for that, he needed to know if Pac would go through with the plan.

“Why, why that, Fitch? Did something happen? Are you feeling weird? Is it…” He got closer. Fit’s heart beated louder. If it was him… if it was him it wouldn’t be so bad. “Is it the Federation, again?”

“No. It’s… the other.”

Understanding downed in his expression. “Oh. Did he contact you again?”

Fit shook his head. “No. But it did say that it would hurt you if I tried to betray our contract and I am not planning to but, Pac, I need to know if you’ll do it. If I become a threat.”

Pac bit his lower lip, thoughtfully. Fit’s muscles relaxed, glad to know he was taking this as a serious worry, not just some unfounded fear.

“We will save you. Just like we did before, just like you did to me, Fitch. I, I will be there for you too, when you need and for as long as you need, if you’re gone we will bring you back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t, but, if I have to kill you, Fit… how will I tell this to Ramón? Or Sunny? WHo is going to be her bodyguard? And what about the morning crew? Are we supposed to just… stay?”

“You are all very strong and I am sure that-”

“No.” His voice was determined, sad. His hands gestured widely. “No, no, no. I am not leaving you behind, Fit. What about when I’m in danger, who will rescue me? Who will share the island’s fofoca with me? Or give me a refrigerator full of food on the first date? Or kill the eye workers when they attack or tease Tubbo when he goes on a date with Fred, or help us to take care of Sunny, or, or, or…” Fit held the other’s hands, squeezing it tight when he started to talk too fast, snapping Pac out of his thoughts, making him take a big breath. “No. You can’t go away, Fitche. Never. I won’t let them take you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah, that… that made sense. 

This was Pac, who the first thought when seeing his friend being drugged and controlled by the Federation was going under the same treatment so he could find a cure for it. The one who forgave Cellbit in a heartbeat when he told him he had changed. Who refused to kill him - even before the date, when Fit couldn’t even put in words his feelings for the other - during Purgatory. Who threw himself into mines and danger easily without thinking twice and would do all of it again an again if it meant keeping someone he cared about safe, even when the Federation kept taking his family one day after the other. He would do it in a heartbeat.

It made sense he didn’t want to lose another one. He was smart, strong, kind… Fit would trust him with his life into his hands in a blink of an eye.

But…

“If I hurt Ramón, Pac. If ever get close to hurt any of the eggs…”

“I will lock you, Fit. And I, we! We will find a cure again. None of them will die and you don’t need to die either.”

“Do you promise?”

Pac nodded, composure and eyes kept firm in their place, holding him down and reminding him he was no longer on this alone. “I promise, Fit. And if your boss cat comes here to hurt them… Then we will kick his butt, right?”

Fit snorted, if it was anyone else, he would doubt, throw their words away as a senseless attempt to comfort him, without true meaning. His boss was god, some kind of entity with power enough to pull him out of a world of literal destruction and throw him into a dimension where all of it never existed. However, this was Pac. Both he and Mike have proven over and over again that there was no place, no rule, no limit that they weren't able to overcome and laugh at their face when the managed to overcome it.

Maybe… If it was him.

He could believe it. Besides, Pac did promise that he wouldn’t let him hurt the children. They were always the priority, afterall

“Yes, we will. Thank you, Pac.” He took a deep breath. Since he already started, he could as well… 

Talk. About stuff.

“Sometimes I… worry about, uh, what I can do.”

(Kill. Maim. Destroy. Break it down piece by piece until there is nothing left. Watch in the shadows and continue his way quietly through all the screams.)

Pac understood what he meant. “Oh. It’s fair. I think, it must be hard, when you think about it…” He then squeezed his hand before letting them go, starting to count on his own fingers. “But, I don’t think you should worry about it, Fitch. You can do a lot of awesome things, too! You’re a really good cooker, you can make very cool bombs and explosions, you’re good at hide and seek, at saving me when I am down. You are also very good at hiking and training, which makes sense, right? With how muscular and great you are, also-”

“Pac,” Fit voice’s took a firm tune, pulling Pac from his rambling and immediately catching his attention, wide black eyes turning at him attentively. “Pac, I was made for killing. All of this is just…”

(It doesn’t matter.)

“Nah.”

Fit blinked once, twice, quite astonished at how nonchalant the scientist sounded. Stared at those beautiful, soft eyes that watched him with a playful light that somehow nothing on the Island had been able to destroy. Strong. “Sorry?”

“I don’t think you were made for killing, Fit. No one is only able to do one thing and everyone can change. Besides… it gave you a lot of skill, right? Surviving there. That is why you’re one of the best fighters on the island, Fit! The codes, the eye workers… even Cucorucho is no match for you. You’re so strong, fierce, cool, fit and,” Pac’s determined tune tripped a little bit as his words got faster and a tad more distracted, his eyes deviating from his stare, looking at his face, arms, torso… Fit would be lying if he said he didn’t like how it hovered for a little while on his chest and muscles, “and you’re good looking too! Awesome, ruthless, muscular, handsome...”

“Ahalright!” Fit cut him before his face melted from how hot it felt, the tip of his ears feeling like they were on fire. His voice seemingly broke Pac out of his mind and made him immediately attempt to hide his face on his hoodie, trying to jump away to hide and being stopped by the gentle hand still holding his, keeping him close. That didn’t prevent more embarrassed snickers from also filling the air. “Sorry, sorry, I got distracted.”

“Take it easy, big boy, take it easy.”

Fit only laughed harder when the teasy nickname made the other shout in protest, a light hit landing on his shoulder. It successfully distracted him enough so his head peaked again from the deepness of his blue hoodie, so Fit counted it as a win. Especially when a playful gleam took over Pac’s glare.

“Actually, Fitch, I think you were made for something.”

“Oh, you think so?”

Pac got closer, smiling, nodding in such an innocent way that could only mean trouble. 

“Yeah, for kisses.” He laid his head on his shoulder and Fit could feel goosebumps travel his entire body from the skin contact. His voice became lower, slower, certain. “Can I kiss you, Fit?”

Fit definitely didn’t bluescreen, half words and meaningless sounds leaving his mouth in a string of incoherency that lasted a couple of minutes before he finally managed to get himself together enough to shove an actual sentence, with a too high pitched tune, through his throat. “I-I mean, of course you can, Pac! If, ah, if you want to.”

Pac’s answer was a single kiss placed in his collarbone before the brazilian focused his administrations on his neck. Soft, warm lips leaving a trail of tingles and electricity whatever they touched. Fit could feel the care in each one and it felt… nice. 

Cozy. 

Warm. 

Tickly.

Ok, actually, it was very, very tickly.

Fit closed his eyes and turned his face around, trying to hide the beginning of a smile that grew bigger with every light - so, so, so light - peck grazing his skin. Not wanting to actually ruin the sweet moment between them, especially after Pac got the courage to ask for what the mercenary had been wanting to do for a while.

(Cuddle and kiss his boyfriend. Oh god, when did he become such a softie?)

The problem with his hiding tactic is that it only left more spots in the open for Pac to attack and bash in attention, not leaving a single patch of skin alone without a caring goodbye kiss, unknowingly breaking piece by piece Fit’s barriers.

He twitched when his boyfriend got too close to the line of his jaw, the warmth racing up to the tip of his ears in a way he hoped that Pac didn’t realized. The one with blue hoodie and attentive eyes stopped in a hitched breath. Waited.

Fit got his racing heart and tickly tingles under control. He was not going to lose to a few accidental tickles. He was not.

He squeezed Pac’s and drew circles on the back of his hands, turning at him with a teasy smirk and crooked eyebrows.

“Oh, is it my turn now?”

Pac giggled and shook his head. “Wait, wait, I still got…”

Without finishing his sentence he dived and placed a light kiss right under his chin, successfully catching the other out of guard and making one of various locked snickers wheezily flee from his lips, quickly being followed by others when Fit tried to cover his smile, turning around once again.

“Oh, god, I am doing this wrong, aren’t I?” Pac pushed himself away and grumbled, starting to search in his pockets for his warpstone, increasing the other’s snickery fit. “Ok, ok, that is it.Thank you so much for calling, I had an incredible time so now I am going to throw myself off the Cristo Redentor and then go to bed, good night, Fit. Tell Ramón I loved him and tell Richas to take a shower, bye.”

“No, no, Pac. Calma, calma.” Fit held one of his wrists, pulling Pac back to his place on the sofa, chasing his black eyes when they kept running away from his while the scientist kept shaking his head from side to other in a dramatic despair. Fit ended up resting his other hand on his cheek, guiding his look back. “I would never laugh at my brazilian boyfriend.” He tried to not grin smugly when that melted the other’s pout in a shy smile “The kisses just tickled me, that is all.”

That immediately brought Pac’s attention. “Wait, Fit… you’re ticklish?”

“It seems like I am, but I am not sure. Not a lot of chances for bonding and laughing when fighting for your life in 2b2t.”

“Oh, I see.” Silence, Pac’s wrist wiggled out of his hold and suddenly there were warm hands flying to his neck, fingertips dancing on it, blunt nails and wiggly fingers tickling the sensitive spot softly. “So, you’re ticklish.”

Fit huffed a laugh at the strange feeling, instinctively scrunching up his neck all while he tried to not pry Pac’s hands away. Same hands that now spidered their way up to his ears, tracing them and giving each one a few scratches, Pac watching in awe as their tips became more and more colored with each passing second.

“Oh my god, Fit, your ears are so red! Are you blushing? That is really, reeeally cute, you know?”

 Fit’s shoulders began to shake slightly with the effort to keep all the giggles and laughter trapped inside, the task growing more and more difficult as Pac kept his exploring. Fingers tapping their way down to the mercenary’s ribcage, making his torso twitch from one side to another as they started skittering up and down, tracing senseless drawings and forms on the spot. Another fleeing snigger escaped from his firmly pressed lips. There was no way such light, barely even touching touch could tickle that much.

“You can laugh it out, Fit. I bet it will feel much better! Besides,” the gleam in his eyes got sharper and Pac didn’t really lower his voice, but something in his tune changed, a turning point that made a shiver run down Fit’s spine. It didn’t feel like something truly dangerous but alerts began flashing in his mind when the touch became just a tad firmer. 

Fit had to push down the squirms that threatened to push the other away. “You can’t just keep all that laughter only for yourself, now, that wouldn’t be fair. No, no, not fair at all. Keeping all those giggles and snickers hidden from me. Trapped inside. They deserve to be free, you know? So everyone can see how cute they are.”

“Pac…”

But then Pac started digging and his barrier broke. Loud laughter immediately followed the hands vibrating in between his ribs, scribbling, looking for any special spot that would make Fit go insane. Not that he was very far from this, now, head being thrown backwards with how strong his crackles were, because nothing in the world could ever prepare him for the feeling that was being tickled, to have each nerve screaming but not in pain, to have each touch bring a new kind of electricity that traveled his torso and filled his heart with a warmth that made him want to jump out of the sofa and at the same time bring Pac closer.

A curious prodding in a spot in his highest ribs that was almost on his back and Fit slammed his body on the cushion, a snort being pried from his lips and quickly being followed by another and another when the fingers kept drilling and kneading on the spot non stop.

Then he heard it, low as a whisper. “Beautiful….” It came in an awed voice, and in between half lidded eyes Fit saw the one with black hair shake his head, as if getting himself together before slowing down the tickling, thumbs rubbing the remnant tickles as he stared at him. “Sorry, Fitch, I, caham, I got, uh, distracted. Are you okay?” He nodded, chuckles taking over his words and disappearing with any hope of saying something without descending in more of a waterfall of giggles. Still, he tried, the proud smile in Pac’s face erasing his embarrassment in how silly he sounded giddy like this. 

“I’m fine, just surprised that I am dating a tickle monster.”

The brazilian laughed, shaking his head and hiding his face on Fit’s shoulder. “Não, não, não (No, no, no). Mike is actually the tickle monster in our team. I just learned a lot from playing fights with him.” Pac trembled in an exaggerated shudder. “He is merciless.”

“Really?”

“Uh hum.” Pac hummed, thoughtful, before doing a little ‘pop’ sound, hands washing down to his sides, tapping senselessly there. “He had this kind of attack where he would be talking to you and suddenly he would start to tickle you and like, it would be really, really light so you didn’t actually, you know, like, died laughing? But at the same time it would be crazily ticklish! Following you around no matter how much you squirmed or snickered.”

“P-pac, come on…”

The other just hummed, still talking and hands still spidering in their resting position, taking turns in between drawing circles on his sides, feeling how his torso would shake with a new round of chuckles blossoming anew, and scratching the little dive of his hips to make them grow faster.

“Then he would try to keep a conversation going and complain like ‘are you even paying attention to what I’m saying, what’s going on?’ as if he didn’t know what was happening, can you believe?! And you couldn’t just… walk away or keep silly giggling non stop and not answer him, because you’re still in a conversation and that would be rude, right? So you’re just there, laughing and wiggling and it always drives me crazy!”

Fit nodded, knowing the feeling very well, in his opinion. His brain trying to pay attention to his words but getting totally distracted by his own attempts to not wiggle around so much because everytime his body trashed to one side, Pac would just dig his fingers on his sides and drum, which made him jump in the other direction only to receive the same treatment, creating a maddening cycle almost impossible to escape from. 

Once again, laughing began flooding the room, high pitches and wheezy giggles chasing around one or two squeals when a tentative squeeze grazed the spot before quickly jumping away, the unexpected playful attacks blending with the soft scribbles and somehow making him not being able to predict nor prepare for one or the other.

“And then, out of nowhere he would get bored and that is where it lies the danger, Fitch.” Pac’s voice took a turn to a lower tune, torn between a warning and a threat. His tickling came to a halt, fingertips just laying on his waist with occasional twitches. What was more strange, though, was how, even so, the janitor couldn’t stop the titters taking over his mind and body. He wondered if that was how he would finally die, undone and destroyed by his very lovely boyfriend. Pac snickered in mischief and amusement, breaking his mask for a couple of seconds before cleaning his throat and coming back to his persona, interlocutor voice back again.

“Because, when he stops it means that he is getting bored. You know that he is getting bored and he knows that you know that he is getting bored and that it is just a matter of time before he decided that is enough and something happens” he highlighted the word by spidering quickly across his ribs. His voice sounded like it was closer. “So you just stay there, quiet, waiting for the moment he will strike.”

Fit held his breath, eyes closed. His smile was so big that it traveled from one ear to the other. No more laughter was falling from his mouth, but his shoulders still bounced with the phantom tickles that freely pricked his skin and seemed to follow his every squirm. Pac’s hands felt warm - dangerous - where they touched and he was pretty sure that his entire face would melt at some point of this game.

He waited.

Waited. Nothing.

A kiss was pressed on his forehead.

He opened an eye, muscles immediately untensing and relaxing with the scene, even if adrenaline still ran without control in his veins, of Pac happily smiling, just a few centimeters from his face.

“Oi, Fitch.”

“Roi, Pa-ACK!”

Loud, uncontrollable and unstoppable laughter filled the room, Fit still tried to finish his sentence before giving up and succumbing to the snorts and wheezing that took over his laughter. Squeezes, drumming and prodding attacked his sides, kneading on the ticklish spot before scratching their way up to his ribs, burying themselves there and then keeping their way up to his armpits - poking and scribbling and making him lock his arms on his torso - until it got to his ears, changing the loud peals of booming laughter to a hysterical string of snickers only to make he go back to crackling when he attacked his sides again and again, alternating between each and every tickle spot so he couldn’t picture where he was going to tickle next. 

Fit could even swear that at some point he felt a squeeze in his knees that fished a chortle from his lips and an uncontrollable kick from his legs.

It lasted only a couple of minutes. All the electricity and tickly buzzing teased and made him laugh like nothing else mattered, loud and free even when, between his own amused giggling, Pac ceased his mean attack and watched with a giant grin as the other tried to regain his breath, a light blush dusting his face.

“You were saying, Fitch?”

Nonsense. That was exactly what Fit was about to say. Because his brain kind of became a mush after all that attack and the airy giggles that kept flowing from his throat didn’t exactly help him to gather his thoughts nor fade the hotness running still on his face.

“I, er, huh…” and there it was, the sentence got lost to jumpy snickers again. Fit brought a hand to hide them and try to gain at least save a bit of face, but a quick poke on his defenseless armpit made it go immediately down again. He glared without any real heat at his boyfriend, who lifted his arms in rendition.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m done for real, now.”

The silence was extended for a few pieces of time, stretching across them like a cat after a nap. 

Fit was the one who broke it.

“That is Mike’s…” He coughed, cleaning his throat “special tickle attack, then? I can see why you call him merciless.”

“Nah, actually that is my own technique. Mike prefers to catch a person out of guard and tickle while taunting them until they promise to make something for him.”

The surprised, amused huff of laughter that came out from the mercenary’s mouth didn’t have anything to do with wiggly fingers this time and Pac joined him. 

“You’re such a sneaky guy, Pac, you’re such a sneaky guy.”

“Thank you. Gotta learn from the best right? Maybe someday me and Ramón will team up and win the hide and seek against you.” 

“Hmm, you probably would. But maybe I can convince Richarlyson to help me?”

“It would be good. Richas is the best in hide and seek. He would really like to. Hey! We should set up a playdate with them in our Hide and Seek arena. We can even call Tubbo and Sunny, maybe even Philza with Chayanne and Tallulah, if they are awake. The more the merrier, right?”

Fit was sure that if he was shapeshifter like Tubbo, without even wanting to, his eyes would be heart shaped. It never ceases to amaze him how Pac could accept and love everyone - him - like they were and would always be a family to him. 

“But, so?” The brazilian wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk opening in his face. “How is it the experience of being tickled for the first time?”

Maddening. Tortuous. Able to make someone go crazy, he was sure. Surprisingly tiring and unexpectedly effective. Strange. Itchy. A lot. Hard to explain.

But also, it was extremely caring. Warm. Soft. Funny. Bonding. Weird. Extremely silly. He couldn’t stop his smile and thoughts about the gleam and shine in Pac’s eyes when he discovered a new spot or how - strangely enough - light and giddy he was feeling right now.

Besides, he never was self conscious about his laughter or anything but listening to Pac calling him… beautiful, in such an amazed voice… Well, his ego really couldn’t complain.

“It was fun.” He decided to go with that, a playful grin in his face, his hands holding Pac’s and intertwining their fingers. 

“Oh, I’m happy in hear that! Actually, I-”

“But…” Fit cut him, purposely deepening his voice in a tune that never failed to catch the other of guard, sending a cold shiver through his muscles. “I can think of something even more fun.”

“Y-yeah?” Pac’s blush deepened when he looked at the dangerous, sharp, determined shine in Fit’s eyes, his entire mind getting overcomed with a choir of excited screams, burning face at realizing how their intertwined hands was both a soft gesture and a restrain. 

Damn, he was really, really gay.

“Uh hm,” his tune now was almost like a purr of a predator watching his prey wobbly smile back and hold his hands tighter together, knowing very well his fate and still not even trying to escape from it. “It’s something that back on 2b2t we liked to call… revenge.”

With a swift move he pulled their hands and lead Pac to lose his equilibrium, falling backwards on his lap, one hand keeping his arms up and the other lifting his hoodie just the slightest bit, the actual perfect amount for him to immediately shove his face on his stomach and start blowing raspberry after raspberry, quick and ruthless.

“FITCHE!” The sound that came out of his mouth could barely be called a word, the high pitched shout being quickly taken over by a hysterical crackling that made his entire body shake with each laughter. 

His boyfriend just chuckled, lifting his head just enough that his next words would be audible to the other, each one buzzing on the ticklish skin and making tiny, tickly electric shocks dance freely across it. “Oh my, Pac, what a delicious belly you got right here. One of the richest, rarest delicacies I’ve ever seen.” 

“NONONO, FITCH!” He kicked and trashed, trying to roll away from his predicament but being firmly held in place by the other, which was kind of nice, since he wasn’t sure how to explain to Fit that he definitely wasn’t going to run away if he had the chance. 

Still, that didn’t stop the fast, airy and high giggles of painting every syllable of his pleas that began flowing like a stream from his lungs, becoming more and more intelligible with each protest. “Please, please, Fitch anything but that! I will do anything you want! Do you wanna know all Mike’s most ticklish spots? Eu posso te dizer! (I can tell you!) he has this place right under his knees that if you poke he starts making ‘wee’ sounds e é muito engraçado (it’s very funny) Fitche por favor, espera, espera, wait!”

“Sorry, Pac, nothing I can do. I just have to try a little. Raspberries are so delicious and I just… I just gotta, ya know? I just gotta try a little, the tiniest little bit.” He lowered his head once again, carefully and softly nibbling on the ticklish skin and doing a bunch of ‘oh nom nom nom’ sounds as he did so, smugly relishing in how louder Pac’s laughter sounded at this, random portuguese and english being mixed in a series of incoherent talking that he couldn't even hope to understand, even with the translator. 

The raspberries and nibbles began taking turns, dancing all across his stomach and sometimes even escaping to attack one lower rib or two in a way that usually drove Ramón crazy. It was kind of funny and endless endearing to realize that both of his boys were extremely weak for the same kind of tickle attack.

All the while Pac was simply dying. There was no other way to describe it. He was utterly and completely dying, losing every tread of.. everything that wasn’t thinking about how much it tickled and laughing both because Fit (Fit!!!!! His boyfriend Fit!!!!) was teasing and tickling him and also because as it seems he was the goofiest dork that ever existed in this world while doing that and somehow that made all the butterflies flying crazy on his belly and tickly electricity following his nerves one hundred times worse and ticklish and it was amazing.

Fit enjoyed a couple more minutes of the silly attack, fondly realizing how much more hysterical and loud the crackles got everytime he added more “hmmm” and “nom nom nom” sounds.

“There we go, big boy.” He lifted his head and got a glimpse of a gigantic, dazzling smile and a red face before Pac immediately hid it behind his hands, wheezes and snickers filling the room.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Fit grinned, but let go of the teasing and took pity on his brazilian boyfriend. He could quite understand why Pac seemed so happy in destroying him minutes ago. There was just a something that made his heart beat faster just in realizing that he was the reason why Pac was so happy and giggly.

Also, the way that the brazilian’s accent got stronger, especially while saying his name in between unstoppable, uncontrollable giggling… Fit thinks he could live with that, yeah.

“Oh my god, Fitche… and you call me merciless.”

The ex-mercenary chuckled. His eyes hovered over Pac’s face, making sure that he was still breathing and alive (he hadn’t taken too far, did he?) when suddenly his look got attracted to his neck, the memory of what started all of this popping like a flashing lamp in his mind.

“Pac…” It was the low voice again, lighter, but still there. Pac’s entire body froze still for a second and alarmed eyes turned to stare Fit, who seemed strangely fixated on his hoodie. “Is your neck ticklish?”

Oh.

Oh.

Pac 100% blamed the gay screaming in his head for his next words.

“YES!” The shout was as excited as it was loud, making both of them wince at it, Fit looking at the one with black hair with a faintly surprised, crooked eyebrows. “I mean, er, assim, uh, no!!! It’s actually not! NOt even a little bit! What even is ticklish, you know? I don’t even speak english, senhor Fitch eme ce, na verdade, essa é a minha primeira vez aqui na ilha, quem é você e… Não!” (sir Fit eme cee, actually, this is my first time here in the island, who are you and… No!)

The babbling was promptly cut when, once again, Fit chuckled in mischief and shoved his head on Pac’s neck. 

Butterfly kisses followed the line of his jaw, attacked that spot under his chin, tickled the place where the collarbone and the neck met, each patch of sensitive skin getting a kiss and a raspberry as a gift, making a series of snorts and high dazed giggles quickly follow the initial surprised shriek and jump around the entire room, Pac’s arms coming to rest on the other’s chest, partially pushing him away and partially holding him, legs kicking behind them with how much adrenaline and giddiness jumped across his muscles and filled his heart.

Pac hid his face on the crook of Fit’s neck, attempting to at least survive a few more seconds from dying of embarrassment, each snort and hysterical high pitched snicker sealing even more his fate and putting another nail in his coffin.

A few curious squeezes on his sides and a final, long raspberry and then Fit finally let him go, watching as the other got his breath again, forgetting for once to hide his blush and brilliant smile into his hoodie, looking completely lost in his own laughing fit. Adorable. 

Sometimes Fit wondered how could he be so lucky.

A loud click and a flashing light brought both of them out of their thoughts. Pac almost falling from the sofa when he turned around and saw Ramón quickly hid a camera behind his back while passing three copies of the pictures to Richas, who stopped making gagging noises to hide them on his protected backpack before the adults could take it.

“Richarlyson, Me dá essas fotos!” (Give me those pictures!) 

“Ramón, what are you doing awake? You should be sleeping. It’s late.”

Ramón had the sense to look at least a tad admonished, but the expression quickly disappeared when Richas began jumping on the same spot, wiggling from one side to another like he always did when he wanted to cause more mischief. The kids exchanged a look.

“Nenê (Baby), no. Don’t follow Richas’ example, he is a little demon.” 

The sandal that went flying across the room and hit the brazilian in the face - which actually led to him falling from the cushions - only further proved this fact. Still, Richas let out plenty of offended noises while getting his sandal back, showing off his tongue when Ramón shoved him and shook his head in disapproval. 

Fit tried his best to not laugh and sound serious. “Richas, do not hit your dad.”

“Don’t worry, Fitch.” Pac tapped his arm, getting up from the floor, tsking. “There is no other way, I guess. I’ll have to kill him. Yeah, it was fun to have a son for a while.”

The mercenary laughed, knowing very well how much of a weak heart Pac had for his little troublemaker. “Calma, calma, Pac. I think I have the solution. Since the kids are feeling so… energetic, we should probably tire them out before putting them back in bed, right?” 

He also got up and gave Pac a Look, pretending to not see Ramón pulling Richas’ sleeve and exchanging warning words to him, knowing very well what that playful, dangerous shine in his dad’s eyes meant.

Pac grinned, mirroring his own devilish expression. “I think you’re right, Fit.”

Richas once again wiggled around in energy, his dragon tail tapping on the floor while Ramón threw a flower at Pac (smart boy, Fit thought, winning the melting heart from the dad that would have more mercy, very smart) and jumped on the same place, smiling and nodding in excitement.

He then pulled Richas away, starting the chase. Pac immediately following behind with joyfuls “I’m gonna catch you!”.

Fit chuckled.

Maybe Pac was right. 

Maybe life - he - was more than just die and kill. 

Well… he rolled his shoulders and followed his family in their game, laughing excitedly. He would have to enjoy it while it lasted, then.

#I couldn't help myself. I just HAD to make Pac's accent getting stronger when he is being tickled. I JUST HAD TO. #One day I will write a tickle fic where someone learn the word 'cosquinha' and keep teasing the brazilians about it that day is not today #Because I Would Die. Fall on the floor completely dead. #Fit: I'm a monster Pac // Pac twirling his hair giggling kicking his legs: that man could destroy me hehehe #Sometimes I worry for their mental health #Fit: *is silly* // Pac: *internal non stopping gay screaming* #Pac: a // Fit: You're absolutely right #qsmp tickles #qsmp tickling #Switch!Fit #Switch!Pac #Ticklish!Fit #Ticklish!Pac #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #Still not over Pac saying that he would kiss marry and kill Fit and Fit answering with 'I like my man dangerous' like GET OUTTTT #I'm going to become homphobic in the end of this I am telling you I can no longer take this I had to keep pausing their date because- #-*I* KEPT GETTING GIDDY AND EMBARRASSED LIKE GET OUT OF HEREEEEE YOU'RE MADDLY IN LOVE YEAH WE KNOWWW #Fun fact here Fit prefers to tickle attack his loved ones with raspberries and stuff because he doesn't trust his hands to be gentle :D #Sorry :')

[wren-of-the-woods]

your gaze lights the fire

When a close encounter with Rience leaves Jaskier in desperate need of somewhere safe, he goes to the only person he knows will take him in: the prince he swore he’d never see again. Jaskier/Radovid, 5k, rated T. No spoilers for volume 2. Also on AO3!

Jaskier thinks he made his expectations very clear on that wonderful night in the shed with Radovid. 

“If we do this,” he’d said between gasps as Radovid nibbled on his ear, “It can only be for tonight.”

Radovid made a displeased noise against his throat.

“I know,” said Jaskier. “I know, but we can’t. We’re on opposite sides. I can’t give you Ciri, and you can’t see me without endangering her or yourself.”

“I’m already in danger,” said Radovid. He had risen back to be level with Jaskier’s face, and Jaskier could feel the warmth of his breath on his own lips. “We both are.”

“I know,” said Jaskier, “But you know this would make it worse. We can’t do that. I can’t. This can only be tonight.”

“Fine,” Radovid said, “Only tonight.”

That had been that. The night was lovely, even more so than expected, and before dawn Radovid was gone. It was what Jaskier had told him to do. It was what Jaskier said he wanted. 

What a fucking liar he is. 

It isn’t his fault, he likes to think, that he’s turning up on Radovid’s metaphorical doorstep in the middle of the night, drenched by the pouring rain and probably looking rather like a bedraggled rat. He truly had intended to stay away from Radovid, just like he said he would, but when his peaceful evening turns into a nightmare of fire and flame while his magical family is off saving the world, he has little choice but to bolt into the rain and head straight for the only safe haven he can think of. 

“What is your business here?” asks the guard outside the palace. 

“I’m here to see the prince,” says Jaskier. “Radovid. Tell him it’s Jaskier. He’ll know me.”

The guard looks rather doubtful, but shouts the message to someone inside the palace who Jaskier cannot see. He does not let Jaskier step out of the rain as they wait. 

A long, cold few minutes pass as they wait for the messenger’s return. Jaskier is just beginning to consider calling it a loss and fleeing to find some basement or barrel to hide in when the door is flung open, not by a messenger, but by Prince Radovid himself. 

The prince is rather disheveled. He had probably been preparing for bed, if not asleep already. His eyes go wide when he sees Jaskier standing in the mud. 

“Jaskier!” he cries. He goes to step forward, realizes it’s pouring rain, and wisely decides to simply give Jaskier a look that is equal parts bewilderment and concern.

“Can I come in?” asks Jaskier. He tries to make it sound wry, but he thinks it just comes out exhausted. 

“Oh! Yes, of course. Come in.” Radovid steps away from the doorway to let Jaskier in, calling to some servant to bring fresh clothes to Radovid’s room. Jaskier cannot even bring himself to be amused by what the servant must think of this order; he is too busy shivering and trying to keep his feet under him. 

“Follow me,” says Radovid, and Jaskier trails after him without question as they walk through corridors and up stairs. He tries not to drip on the fancy wooden flooring too much. He fails. 

After what feels like ages to Jaskier’s addled mind, but is probably only a few moments, Radovid pushes open a door. Jaskier stumbles into the room without hesitation. He knows it’s stupid not to consider the potential danger, but he’s too entranced by the warm light he can see coming through the doorway to care. 

The room is large and covered in furs. Rich red curtains cover the large windows. In one corner is a four-poster bed, complete with a canopy and curtains. Jaskier realizes belatedly that this is probably Radovid’s bedroom. 

Radovid drags an armchair over to the fire, which has burned down to embers, and gestures for Jaskier to sit. Jaskier feels a little bad for ruining the upholstery with the mud covering his clothing, but not bad enough not to obey. He extends his hands towards the warmth of the coals.

“I’m having a bath sent up,” says Radovid. “It should be here soon.”

“Thank you,” says Jaskier quietly. He should probably be more effusive, but he can’t quite manage it. 

For a moment, awkward silence descends upon the room. 

“Why— what are you doing here?” asks Radovid. He’s obviously been fighting the urge to ask ever since he first saw Jaskier, and Jaskier appreciates that he waited until now. 

Jaskier swallows. He takes a deep breath. He lets it out. 

“I’m asking for asylum, I suppose,” he says. “I’d like to stay here for a few days. I need somewhere safe.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier sees Radovid take a step towards him. “What happened?”

“Rience found me,” he murmurs. “He— well, let’s just say I needed to make a speedy exit.”

Jaskier finally tears his gaze away from the coals, looking up to meet Radovid’s eyes. 

“I can’t give you anything. I can’t give you Ciri. I probably can’t even stay here, because if your spymaster gets wind of my presence I’m fucked, but… Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri are off doing important things who-knows-where, and Rience is after me.”

Jaskier suddenly cannot bear to see the unreadable expression on Radovid’s face, full of feeling. He looks away as he finishes.

“I’m sorry. I know I said we shouldn’t see each other again. I don’t have any incentive to make you let me stay. But I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

He glances up at Radovid again. The prince swallows. 

“You don’t need an incentive,” he says quietly. His voice is full of unnamable feeling. Jaskier shudders. 

Radovid takes another step forward. “You’re shivering. I’ll build up the fire—”

“No!” cries Jaskier, rising halfway up out of his chair. 

Radovid stops and looks at Jaskier. His brows are furrowed in what is obviously concern. 

“You’re drenched. You must be freezing. You need to get warm, Jaskier.”

“Not the fire. I—” Jaskier swallows. “The bath will warm me up enough.”

Radovid studies him for a long moment, then nods. “If you’re sure.”

Jaskier lets out a shuddering sigh of relief and sinks back down into the chair. “Thank you.”

For several long moments, there is silence. It is just beginning to become deeply awkward when servants blessedly arrive with water for the bath. 

Radovid quickly moves to direct them through a door that apparently leads to a large bathroom, leaving Jaskier free to sit until they were gone. When everything is ready, he leads Jaskier to the tub, points out the locations of the various soaps and towels, and then politely leaves the room. 

Jaskier makes quick work of removing his clothes and clambering into the tub. The water is so hot that it stings against his chilled skin at first, but as he warms, it becomes heavenly. He is sorely tempted to lounge there until the water goes cold, but he is also acutely aware of the facts that he is filthy and that he is a guest in a place that he is not entirely sure is safe. Reluctantly, he takes the nicest-smelling soap and washes himself. 

By the time he clambers out of the tub, the water is halfway to being mud and he feels worlds better. He dries himself with the fluffiest towel he has ever had the pleasure of encountering and wraps it around his waist when he is done. As much as he would like to have something between himself and the rather chilly air — and the eyes of any servant or friend who might think to visit the prince’s bedchamber, or even the knowing gaze of the prince himself — he is loathe to touch his muddy clothes again if he doesn’t have to. 

He pokes his head back into the bedroom and sees Radovid sitting in the chair Jaskier had occupied earlier, staring at the coals. He looks up the moment Jaskier steps, barefoot, into the room.

“You’re finished?” he asks. 

“Yes.”

“Did you find everything you needed?”

Jaskier hesitates for a moment, then decides there’s no harm in asking. “Um, actually, do you have a robe or something that I could borrow? My clothes are filthy.”

“Oh! Of course.” 

Radovid quickly stands and goes to rifle through what might be the largest closet Jaskier has ever seen. If he weren’t so tired, he might be jealous. Any negative feelings he might have had vanish when Radovid turns and offers him the warmest-looking fur robe Jaskier has ever seen. He shrugs into it without hesitation, keeping the towel around his waist, and sighs happily at the softness of the fabric 

He looks up to see Radovid looking at him with a small smile. The prince turns away hurriedly when he sees Jaskier looking. Jaskier is suddenly very aware of the fact that he is wearing Radovid’s clothes. 

“I can have your clothes washed,” Radovid offers. “They could be done by tomorrow.”

Jaskier hesitates again. It’s a risk, he knows, to agree to this offer; it puts him more deeply in Radovid’s debt, and it would mean running the risk of having what might now be his only clothes lost or recognized as his by a certain spymaster’s agents. But he is already at risk. He wants his clothes to be clean. The earnestness in Radovid’s gaze, the apparently honest desire to help, is very difficult to refuse. 

“All right,” he says. 

Radovid nods, goes to get the clothes, and vanishes into the hall for a moment, presumably in search of a servant. He returns a few minutes later without the clothes and with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He pours one for himself and hands the other to Jaskier. 

Jaskier takes a small sip of his wine. Radovid does the same. For a moment, there is silence.

“So,” says Jaskier, “What happens now?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” says Radovid. “This is not a situation I’ve encountered before.”

Jaskier smiles halfheartedly. “I thought your time at court wasn’t staid.”

“It isn’t, but this is more adventure than even I am used to.”

“I suppose that’s fair. I don’t imagine there are many other bedraggled bards popping up in your chambers.”

Radovid chuckles a little, then sobers. “I can get you a room. I’m sure we have one empty.”

Jaskier thinks about that for a moment, then grimaces. “That would draw even more attention than I already have. I’d rather keep my presence as a guest unofficial, for now.” He sighs. “Is there a stable or something I can sleep in?”

Radovid balks at that. “You can’t sleep in the cold. You’ve already been wet enough for one evening.”

Jaskier frowns a little, rather taken aback by Radovid’s earnestness. “It would be fine. I’ve had worse.”

“You shouldn’t have had to put up with worse,” says Radovid. Jaskier opens his mouth to argue further, but Radovid holds up a hand to silence him. “I’d never forgive myself if you became ill when I could have prevented it. Please, stay.”

Jaskier considers this for a moment. He wouldn’t particularly mind sleeping in Radovid’s room. It would be awkward, certainly, but it’s a very nice room.

“I can sleep on your floor,” he suggests.

Radovid does not look particularly happy with this, either. “I don’t want to make you do that.”

“It’s a very nice floor.” It is: it’s got a thick rug and everything. It is very soft against Jaskier’s bare feet.

“You need the bed more than I do.”

It’s Jaskier’s turn to balk. “I’m not making you give up your bed. You’re my host. And also the prince of Redenia. I’d probably be beheaded for treason, or something.”

“No one would know. I can find another room for the night, if you want.”

“I can’t make you do that.” Jaskier is already deep in Radovid’s debt, and besides, there is a deep part of him that does not want to be the reason for the prince’s discomfort. 

They stare at each other for a moment, at an impasse. Even in the palace, the barely-glowing coals mean that the night air is chill against Jaskier’s face. The robe is lovely, but slightly too small to close completely at the front. Goosebumps begin to prickle on his arms.

“You’re cold,” says Radovid softly. “Please. If you won’t take the bed, would you at least let me build up the fire?”

Jaskier closes his eyes and tries to steady his shaky breathing. 

“I— no. Not tonight. I can’t.” 

Despite his best efforts, his voice cracks a little on the last word. He decides to blame his exhaustion, not the intensity of the emotions roiling in his chest, for the mistake.

Jaskier opens his eyes. Radovid looks like he’s going to argue further. Jaskier knows he should stand firm, but he is tired. He is starting to shake a little in the aftermath of the terror and adrenaline of the evening, not to mention his current feelings of uncertainty and hope and other emotions he would rather not name. He is wanting, and he is weak. He takes a leap of faith. 

“We could share the bed,” he says. “I wouldn’t be cold. No one would have to sleep on the floor. It’s a win-win situation.”

Radovid pauses. He studies Jaskier consideringly for a very long moment.

“In the shed,” he says, “You said we could only be together for that night.”

Jaskier swallows. “I did.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“I don’t know.”

Radovid is still studying him intently. Jaskier rubs his thumb along the pads of his fingers. 

“I didn’t intend to come back. I meant to keep my word,” Jaskier murmurs. “Tonight is about necessity.”

“And tomorrow?” 

Jaskier meets his eyes. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

Radovid considers him for another long moment, then nods. “I suppose we will.”

Wordlessly, he gestures at the bed. Jaskier walks over to it and, after only a moment’s hesitation, slides under the covers without removing the robe. He settles on his back, looking up at the red canopy above the bed. The sheets are cool and soft and the furs are softer still. 

He looks up in time to see Radovid taking off his vest and shirt, putting them back in the closet. He keeps his trousers, for which Jaskier is startlingly grateful. After the day he’s had, he is neither physically nor emotionally prepared for anything more than sleep. 

Radovid climbs into the bed beside him, taking the space Jaskier carefully left unoccupied. His caution was hardly necessary, it turns out; this bed is absurdly large. Jaskier supposes it is one of the many benefits of princehood. 

“At the risk of sounding stubborn,” says Radovid quietly, “I really do think we should build up the fire. It’s cold out.”

“And at the risk of sounding repetitive,” Jaskier says, “I would really rather not.”

Radovid is silent. With a sigh, Jaskier rolls over to face him. 

“You want to know why,” he says. 

It isn’t really a question, but Radovid answers it anyway. “I admit to being curious.”

Jaskier sighs deeply, sits up, and starts to climb out of the bed, thinking that he would rather have this conversation standing on the cool floor than here in the strange vulnerability that is found in Radovid’s bed. 

“Wait, where are you going?” says Radovid. He sits up a little, reaches out, and—

Seizes Jaskier’s hand. 

His hand is held firm. The grip on his fingers is tight. He cannot pull away.

His heart pounds. His fingers are warm— burning. He can feel the flames. His breathing speeds up until he’s panting, struggling for air, helpless little whines leaving his throat with each breath without permission. 

He cannot escape. There’s no point in even trying, no point in attempting to avoid the flames he can see coming for him, flickering before his eyes. They are the flames from that very evening that roared as the inn was invaded, burning as he fled helplessly into the twilight, and also those from that horrible night that was over a year ago now, the night that he still wonders if he truly escaped. His ribs hurt— his lungs hurt— he cannot breathe and he cannot escape and he is burning and—

“Jaskier!” shouts a voice that does not belong to Rience.

The grip on his fingers is gone. Instead, there are hands on his shoulder and his cheek. The touch is firm and a little desperate, nothing like the horrid false gentleness of Rience’s caress. Jaskier manages to open eyes he hadn’t realized had been squeezed shut and there in front of him, eyes almost wild with concern, is Radovid. 

Jaskier is sitting on the bed. Radovid is kneeling in front of him. The prince’s hands are still on him. The furs are soft against Jaskier’s knees, but the wood of the headboard is cold and hard and all too familiar against his back. Jaskier jolts forward to get away from it and nearly shoves Radovid in the process. 

Radovid’s other hand goes to Jaskier’s arm, steadying him. Jaskier lets himself slump against Radovid, his forehead landing on the prince’s shoulder. He realizes he is shaking. 

“Shit,” Jaskier says into his the space above his collarbone. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Jaskier?” says Radovid, hesitant. Jaskier can feel him open his mouth, close it, then swallow. “How can I help?”

And Jaskier should not ask it — he swore it was only one night, showing such vulnerability to someone so close to Dijkstra is deeply unwise — but he is too far gone to care. 

“Hold me?” he whispers, and he can feel it when Radovid sucks in a shuddering breath in response.

Radovid shifts closer, moves one of his hands to the space just below Jaskier’s shoulderblades, and uses it to pull him close. Jaskier goes unhesitatingly, letting Radovid guide him until one of the prince’s arms is around his shoulders and the other is rubbing gently up and down his back. Jaskier’s head still rests on Radovid’s shoulder; he inhales deeply, breathing in what must be the scent of the prince’s soap. He can feel Radovid’s chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. Gradually, his own breathing slows to match it.

“Thank you,” Jaskier murmurs, after a while. “I— I’m sorry about that.”

Jaskier should be past this, he sometimes thinks. It’s been a year since that terrible night, and he isn’t alone anymore. He has enough powerful friends that, even if Rience did catch him again, he has a decent chance of being rescued before anything bad can happen. Even if he doesn’t, even if he is still in danger, this irrational panic and these fucking flashbacks are not helpful. 

But his heart and mind don’t seem to have got the message, and all he can do is cling tighter to the prince he swore he’d never see again and breathe. 

“Don’t apologize,” says Radovid. 

For a long moment, they stay there in silence. Jaskier breathes. Slowly, his heartbeat begins to return to something resembling normality.

Radovid is the first one to speak. He is hesitant and soft, as though afraid breaking the silence might somehow break Jaskier. Jaskier isn’t quite sure if he feels miffed or grateful.

“Can I ask what happened?” says Radovid.

Jaskier huffs a barely-there laugh into Radovid’s collarbone, still not able to make himself pull away. “I suppose I can answer two of your questions at once, now.”

“What?”

“That happened for the same reason that I don’t want a fire.”

Jaskier can feel Radovid go very, very still. “Oh.”

Jaskier takes a deep breath. 

“About a year ago,” he begins, “I met Rience. He was looking for Ciri. Apparently, it’s easier to find a bard singing about heartbreak than it is to find a witcher or a princess on the run. He asked me to tell him where they were. He… was not particularly polite when I refused.” 

“Oh,” says Radovid again, a little shaky. He had made an interested sound when Jaskier mentioned Rience’s name, but his curiosity seems to have given way to sympathetic horror.

“He tortured me,” Jaskier says in a rush, before he can lose his nerve. “Tied me to a chair and beat me and threatened me for hours. Broke my lute, too. At the end, when I still wouldn’t talk, he— uh— he started to burn my hands. My fingers, really. I got rescued before he could do any permanent damage, but he got close.” Jaskier swallows/shudders. “Very close.”

Radovid’s arms tighten around Jaskier until Jaskier isn’t quite sure which of them is clinging to the other. He closes his eyes, letting the feeling tether him to the world around him.

“I don’t do so well with fire, after that,” he murmurs. “Or having my hands grabbed. Or chairs, sometimes.”

“Jaskier,” says Radovid, helpless and pained. Jaskier holds him tighter. 

“I’d rather word of this didn’t get out, by the way,” he says after a long moment. “I don’t particularly want that soot on my reputation.”

“Jaskier, you withstood torture for the sake of the very friend who’d given you reason to write Burn Butcher Burn. That bravery would be the farthest thing from a blemish on your reputation.”

Jaskier could not help a small smile at the earnestness in Radovid’s voice. 

“Perhaps,” he says, “But I find that life is easier if bravery is not a word associated with my name. A foolish bard can get away with much more than a cunning one, sometimes. I think you, of all people, understand that.”

“I do,” says Radovid. Jaskier fancies he can hear the small smile in Radovid’s voice when he adds, “You wear your mask well.”

“So do you.” Jaskier pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Although, I think you’d look damn good no matter what you wore.”

Radovid laughs a little at that. For a while, they are silent. 

“He came back for you tonight,” Radovid says after a long moment, as though he’s only just remembered. “Rience. That’s who you were running from. He found you.”

“He did,” Jaskier says. He thinks he does a good job of keeping his voice steady despite the leftover panic that tries to clamber up his throat.

“Fuck,” says Radovid, and despite the situation, Jaskier manages to be a little amused at having driven the prince to utter the first profanity Jaskier has heard from his lips. “Are you all right?”

“I’m uninjured, I promise,” says Jaskier. He fiddles with the edge of his robe with one hand. “I’m very good at running.”

“He won’t get to you again,” says Radovid. Jaskier is not entirely sure if he’s trying to reassure Jaskier or himself. “One of us will find him — Redenia, or your witcher, or someone else — and we’ll get rid of him. You’ll be safe.”

Jaskier does not know if he believes him. He is grateful anyway. “Thank you.”

He can feel Radovid’s chest fall as he lets out a long sigh. It’s only a little shaky. 

“We should sleep,” Radovid says after another long moment of silence. “You’re exhausted.”

“Probably,” says Jaskier reluctantly. He is loathe to leave his comfortable position in Radovid’s arms, but he knows that Radovid is right. 

Slowly, they untangle themselves from each other. Jaskier climbs back under the covers, taking the same place he occupied before, lying on his back and staring at the canopy. Radovid waits until he is settled before getting into the bed beside him. 

For a long while, there is silence. Jaskier cannot bring himself to close his eyes. His chest still feels too tight, his heart too fast. He knows that Radovid is still awake beside him; his breathing has not slowed. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jaskier asks eventually, unable to bear the silence any longer.

“I’m thinking that I wish you could stay,” murmurs Radovid, earnest and soft. 

Jaskier closes his eyes for a moment. If he doesn’t, he suspects he will feel the prickling of tears before long.

“So do I,” he says, and he is past the point of caring that there is far too much honesty in his voice. “But I can’t. Not for long.”

“I know. It’s not safe.”

Jaskier frowns. He opens his eyes and rolls onto his side, so that he can see Radovid’s face. The prince is already on his side, looking directly at Jaskier. His expression is troubled.

“You once made a whole speech about how safe Redenia would be for Ciri,” says Jaskier. It isn’t really a question, but he thinks it will do. 

“Times change. I was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“Dijkstra murdered my brother’s wife and told me I could be next.”

Jaskier opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“Oh,” he says weakly. “That’d do it.”

Radovid smiles. It is obviously halfhearted. Jaskier reaches across the space between them and rests a hand on Radovid’s where it lies on a pillow.

“Are you safe?” he asks.

“I think so. As safe as I can be.” Radovid pauses. He turns his hand so he can, slowly and with great gentleness, lace his fingers with Jaskier’s. “Safer than you are most of the time, probably.”

Jaskier huffs a small laugh. “Probably. I’m very good at getting into trouble.”

“It makes for good songs.”

Jaskier squeezes Radovid’s hand. Usually, he would say something cocky or make a joke at that, but tonight he has no desire for little lies. “I’m glad you think so.”

Radovid smiles. It is small, but this time it is real. The sight warms Jaskier’s heart. He realizes, suddenly, that he cannot bear the thought of this man being hurt.

He shouldn’t say it. It’s a risk. He should keep his secret, on the off chance that he’s ever able to resume his work as the Sandpiper, and leave the future to its own devices, but he doesn’t know if it will matter. Philippa and Dijkstra probably know all the Sandpiper’s secrets, anyway. And, most importantly, Radovid might need him. 

“If you ever need to get out of here,” he says slowly, “Go to the tavern by the docks at Oxenfurt and tell the owner you need the Sandpiper. She can contact me, and she should know of several safehouses where you can hide. We can make you disappear.”

Radovid looks at him for a long, long moment. 

“You’re incredible,” he says. “Have I mentioned that?”

Jaskier gets a lot of praise. He has a lot of fans. None of it has prepared him for how it feels to be complimented, so genuinely and so unexpectedly, by someone like Radovid.

He swallows. It would probably be wise to stop talking — to keep up the pretense of this interaction being solely the product of necessity — but Jaskier has never been wise.

“Why the fuck aren’t we cuddling right now?” he asks. It startles a laugh out of Radovid. 

“I truly have no idea,” he says, and suddenly they are moving. 

There is a long moment of confused rearranging involving a few near misses when elbows get perilously close to stomachs. At one point, Jaskier tries to get Radovid to rest his head on his chest while Radovid is simultaneously trying to tuck Jaskier up against his side. Eventually Radovid puts a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder to still him.

“You’re the one who almost died tonight,” he says. “Let me hold you.”

Jaskier likes the sound of that, and he cannot argue with the earnestness in Radovid’s voice. He lets himself be rolled over so that his back is to the prince, and the tenderness of Radovid’s hands helps to chase away the ghost of Rience’s touch on his skin. 

Radovid presses up against Jaskier’s back. He tangles his legs with Jaskier’s and, gently, puts his arm over him so his palm rests over Jaskier’s heart. Jaskier can feel his chest rising and falling against his back and the warmth of his breath on the nape of his neck. He has to work to keep from shuddering.

“Is this all right?” Radovid asks, and Jaskier is startled for a moment that Radovid does not realize just how perfect it is.

“Yes,” says Jaskier. He presses back against Radovid to make his point, despite the impossibility of getting any closer to the prince, and puts his hand on Radovid’s arm. Radovid holds him tighter, and when he smiles, Jaskier can feel the movement of his face against the back of his neck.

They lapse into silence, but unlike before, it is not unbearable. Jaskier can hear and feel every breath that Radovid takes, and his touch, somehow both comfortingly familiar and beautifully new, keeps Jaskier grounded in the present. He is not with Rience. He is not in immediate danger. He is not alone. 

Jaskier does not fall asleep yet, but neither does he panic. He is, for once, content to simply be here, to enjoy this moment safe in the arms of the man for whom his feelings run deeper than he would ever have expected. He feels the beginnings of a song stirring in the back of his mind and follows the threads, weaving together a melody. Softly, he begins to hum.

“What song is that?” asks Radovid. His voice is soft, as though he is afraid the moment will break if he speaks too loudly. 

“I’m not sure yet,” murmurs Jaskier, matching his volume. “I’m composing.”

“Oh,” says Radovid. The sound is almost reverent. It makes something achingly warm and tender curl around Jaskier’s heart. 

“I think,” he says slowly, “That the song is about how fire is not always necessary.”

Radovid makes a curious sound against Jaskier’s neck. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not cold anymore,” says Jaskier. “Not with you here.”

“Oh,” says Radovid again, rather wetly. It sounds as though he might be close to tears, and Jaskier can hardly believe that such a lovely man lets Jaskier’s words have this power over him. Radovid presses his forehead against Jaskier’s shoulder and clings to him. 

After a moment, Radovid takes a deep breath. Jaskier rather thinks it sounds like he is bracing himself. He listens curiously.

“I thought,” says Radovid slowly, “That you’d had enough of singing unspoken words of love.”

Radovid’s voice is very deliberate when he says the word love. Jaskier knows what Radovid is asking; he knows what word he is being given the opportunity to deny.

“You inspire me, I suppose,” he says. He does not deny it.

“I’m glad,” says Radovid, and the sincerity in his voice almost takes Jaskier’s breath away.

“I don’t think this is about necessity anymore,” he says, and it sounds like a confession. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know that. I’m glad I came here tonight.”

“So am I,” says Radovid. 

Jaskier laughs a little. “Even though I interrupted your peaceful night’s sleep?”

“You could never be an interruption, Jaskier.”

Even Jaskier cannot find the words to respond to that, at first, so he puts his hand on Radovid’s forearm and holds tight, hoping that Radovid can guess at the multitude of tender feelings curled around his heart. 

“Neither could you,” he manages to say after a moment. 

Softly, so tenderly that Jaskier’s spine tingles, Radovid presses a kiss to the back of Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier sighs, shuddering a little, and presses into the touch.

“Sleep,” Radovid whispers. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

And, when Jaskier drifts into dreamless slumber in Radovid’s arms, he is warm.

#the witcher #radovid #jaskier #radskier #radovid x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #wren writes #man i cut this really close #because the fic just kept getting LONGER #but it's out before volume 2!!! #behold :D #here be hurt/comfort and feels and excessive amounts of cuddling #it's quite sappy really

[alsojnpie]

hey. um. i love him

#O_O i really love him #it's getting warmer every day and i can't draw him in a sweater for much longer #by the way. is this site going to. yknow. die #sigh........i kept telling myself I'd get better at it one day #kind of like the way i tell myself i can get together courage to speak up but i never do #using another website just sounds so depressing #im not good at social media. im tired of pretending like i can get good at it #but you can't even pretend like you can jump into a conversation if no one is having a conversation #i wanted to be part of a community here but i never could figure out what belonging looked like or how i could do it #and maybe it's my fundamental misunderstanding of that that prevents it but how can i understand it without experience #I'm so jealous of everyone who looks like they achieved what i couldn't even put my finger on. but since i didn't even understand it #i can't even be sure what exactly im jealous of #the other day i walked past a trio of friends and they had their arms around each other and were laughing as they walked #and i felt really strongly that even though I've always wanted a friend like that I'm actually fundamentally incompatible with that. #there's several reasons #but it made me feel really sad. but it made me feel a little better too. i guess it's really not my fault. maybe. i don't really know #in that moment it felt very much like something that was not my fault. and it was nice and sad at the same time #idk what's going to happen here. but one thing i know for sure is that i can have a happy tomorrow. no matter what #no matter what i have to give up on. i can find joy in other things. even in myself #and if there's one idea that he is about. it's that one

[neptunesailing]

mayoi (enstars x hnk au)

#nep draws things #ensemble stars #enstars #sketch #mayoi ayase #enstars x hnk au #hnk au #ouoououououu i am soooo proud of the mayo on the right hjhjrhgrghrhgrhghgrghrhg he is so !! #showed this to a friend before i posted and they said his hair would taste like frozen grapes and i had to break it to them that it'd break #their teeth JHDHJFHJSDHJFHJSHJFSJD anywayy i might redraw the aira one.. he needs some attention too ^_^ sorry i only design for hii.ai / #alkaloid but THEY ARE MY FAVS........ by this logic i should be drawing more sw.itch but . i just . *waves hands* alkaloid !!! alkaloid so #special to me.. anyway tatsumi has another job other than patrolling with mayo which is why mayo has the winter uni and tatsun has the norm #i was maybe thinking tatsun would be a healer like rutile is..? nothing is set in stone (pun intended) for now ahha but tatsun can still #fight jsut fine!! hes more of a watcher for mayo. mayo fights more since his hardness lvl is much higher than tatsun's. during the spring a #stuff tho i think mayo kinda hides around? still not sure.. youd probably see him around tho in the shadows (ala canon i guess) and i guess #thats how hiiro and aira get to know mayo outside of patrols.. OH the reason why mayo is on winter patrol is because he gets too nervous #working with other gems and he kept messing up and hiding away whenever he did mess up so :((( yeah he usually fights by himself OH I SHOUL #EXPLAIN WHY HE CAN SPLIT INTO 2 its because of the spinel law something somethign rotated at 180 degrees at some axis but ANYWAY his hair #is longer in his singular form but you can see in his split form his hair is cut differently than how we normally see mayo's hair- and also #theyre mirrored!! their braids are on different sides and the side w/o the braid is shorter!! and the moles are on opposite sides too heheh #holy shit i wrote so much in the tags..... anyway THANK YOU SOS SO MUCH TEA FOR REMINDING ME OF THE HNK AU AGAIN AND ENABLING ME TO GO #INSANE OVER THIS AU AGAIN UR AMAZINGGGG <333333

[maburito]

I've been stuck on a level in Metroid Fusion for 2 days but I'm being so brave about it and not looking up the solution

#dksoxksod #it's not like #anti solution and anti guide at lal #it's just that since i kept doing that while playing Legend of Zelda games i realized how much it ruined it for me #like man the satisfaction and the pleasure of discovering the solution by yourself!!! #but also i'm getting frustrated akdkzndldk #like i'm getting so frustrated coz it feels like it shouldn't be this hard but UUGH #but like everytime i feel compelled to look it up i just go nO! #no peeking! #mwlxpslxos #it'll take me longer but!! i want the dopamine!! from finding it out by myself!! #Metroid Fusion #Mabu plays Metroid